


Transgressions.

by theweakestthing



Category: Bride of Re-Animator (1989), Re-Animator (1985), Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Bad Vibes, Co-Dependency, Communication Failure, Drug Withdrawal, Dysphoria, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Masturbation, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Roommates to lovers, Slurs, Trans Herbert West, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Vaginal Sex, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing
Summary: Herbert doesn't know what home is, and has never really taken to the concept. Every house he's ever lived in has simply been a place where he resides. And he's never lived anywhere long enough to know the call of home.Dan teaches him that home is a feeling, and a person can feel like home.
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Comments: 24
Kudos: 70





	Transgressions.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this on another story and thought it would be useful to make a similar disclaimer here: 
> 
> The expressions of the transgender experience portrayed in this story are informed by my own experiences, research in other people’s experiences and academia, as well as the films themselves. Gender identity and expression are personal and vary greatly from person to person. As such, this work is by no means meant to convey or represent the trans community as a whole, which would be a wild generalisation of the lived experiences of a community with such diversity in experience and expression.
> 
> Also, my understanding of medical school and the medical profession comes solely from watching too much Scrubs and House M.D. so it's very likely that some of the medical aspects of this story will be unrealistic. 
> 
> If I missed something to tag, or there's something you'd like me to tag, don't hesitate to ask. 
> 
> This is my first time writing a trans character, please be kind.

It would have been easy to resent Dan. For all the things he was that Herbert wasn’t, all the ways in which Herbert was lacking that Dan wasn’t, but he didn’t find himself lacking. Instead Herbert let Dan fill in the gaps. Dan was an asset and far more on top of that; Dan was respected, Dan was charming, Dan had access to people that Herbert likely never would, Dan was at the peak of his physical condition and he could have so easily coasted by on those things but his unrelenting work ethic and tireless compassion pushed him further. It might have been easy to resent Dan for all the things that he didn’t earn, and the extra unnecessary effort he put in too. In Herbert’s eyes they were tools and assets, things he could use to further his work and add credibility to it and himself.

Besides that, Dan was also the only reason that he was currently breathing.

Herbert had seen Dan’s exhaustive and frankly reckless attempts to save the lives of his patients before, it didn’t matter that the majority were terminal or that their deaths were inevitable and foreseen, Dan continued until he was told to stop. And Herbert was thankful for that. Not only had it proved that Dan detested death as much as Herbert himself, it was also the reason he was still alive.

And people thought better of him just because he was standing next to Dan. He’d long since stopped caring about what other people thought, the work was what mattered, but that night it was more than useful. More than useful to be stood next to Dan (or sitting as they were), the affable medical student who had just lost his fiancé, as Herbert feigned the shock that Dan was so clearly in the grips of.

Herbert refused to be examined. He would examine himself later and determine whether he needed medical attention himself. Of course it would have been far easier and more convenient to be checked then and there, but Dan stayed as close as his shadow, and it wasn’t worth the risk. Dan was smart, despite the apparent shock, Miskatonic’s brightest and most promising student. Herbert had no doubt that Dan would figure him out given the time and opportunity. So he gave him neither.

As soon as the tired and distracted members of Arkham PD had taken their stilted statements, he was able to steer Dan out of the hospital, into his car and back home without any trouble.

He was once again thankful for Dan’s now reliable panic attacks. It might not have been moral, but Herbert had always been more of a ‘the ends justify the means’ sort of person and as such morality never much bothered him. The work was more important than any question of ethics. Their success would balance out every misdeed they had committed along the way, at least he supposed that was how Dan saw it, how he rationalised his involvement. It didn’t so much matter to Herbert.

Once they were finally in the relative safety of their home, Herbert took stock of the current situation. His notes were safely back in his possession, he and Dan were alive, Dr. Hill was mulch, they had made an incredible amount of progress in their work (despite the chaos and death that progress had come at the cost of) and the authorities were none the wiser. It was more than he could have hoped for considering how easily it all could have gone wrong. Though, things hadn’t exactly gone _right_ either.

Blood and viscera still clung to their clothes and skin, dried and cracked, like paint. Herbert itched to have a shower, to wash the terrors of the night down the drain. He looked at Dan. The other man was far away. He wore the thousand yard stare of a man who had seen more than he could handle.

Herbert could handle this. Things had crumbled around him before, his life and plans turned over several times already, he’d learnt how to deal with it on his own. Had dusted himself off and picked up the pieces. As it was, he was already thinking about what they had learned from that chaotic night. His fingers were itching to work, to slip down into the basement and pick up where he had left off, with the newly gleaned information. He wouldn’t though. There were other more pressing matters that needed taking care of that night, now morning.

The first branches of light came through the barely covered windows and lit the tear tracks on Dan’s face like the weeping renditions of Christ and Mary he’d seen in church as a child.

Megan was dead. Dan would blame him, but Dan would blame himself too and neither of those things were productive. Dan’s life had been irrevocably changed and he didn’t seem as used to it as Herbert was. It was oddly reminiscent of their first foray into the very morgue they had barely escaped mere hours ago.

He guided Dan into the bathroom and hoped that the man had the faculties to wash himself. The blistering light of the single bare bulb bounced off the tiles and threw the blood and bruises into stark relief. They looked so like the corpses that they brought back to life. He avoided the mirror and switched on the shower.

As he was passing Dan to leave the room, he was caught by the elbow and halted in his stride.

“I’m just getting you a change of clothes, I’ll be back in a second Dan,” Herbert assured and patted Dan’s hand, waiting to be let go. After a few moments, Dan’s hand slipped away and Herbert was able to leave the room.

He had never been in Dan’s bedroom before. It was fairly typical, there were dirty clothes on the floor and study materials scattered across a desk in the far corner, just as he had expected. Herbert eyed the Talking Heads poster that hung above the bed for a moment before he gathered a change of clothes for Dan. It was a novel experience, rooting through the draws of another man. Dan seemed to fold everything except his underwear.

When he re-entered the bathroom, Dan’s soiled clothes were pooled on the floor while the man himself was in the shower with the curtain drawn.

Herbert set the clothes down on the toilet lid. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself, but he knew he couldn’t stay in the room, and his continued presence might be taken as permission for Dan to stay while he showered too.

Quietly, he slipped out of the room and leant against the wall, just beyond the threshold of the doorframe.

“Herbert,” Dan croaked, voice dangerously close to a whine.

“Yes?” Herbert called in return, hoping that Dan wouldn’t ask him to be physically present.

“Can you talk to me,” Dan said, begged really, voice barely raised above the din of the shower, “please?”

“About?” Herbert asked, examining the now dry and cracking blood and viscera over his coat, he struggled to get out of it and left it in a heap on the floor. Even being freed from the now stiff fabric brought little relief. His clothes stuck to him in all the ways he hated. It felt like a second body wrapped around him, he hoped that Dan wouldn’t take too long.

“Anything,” Dan replied, his voice cracked over the word, the now familiar exasperation was better than this broken hollowness.

Herbert knew that he couldn’t talk about just anything. There were subjects that were out of bounds, and the work was clearly one of them. Anything to do with the incident that had transpired mere hours ago was obviously off the table, he was almost certain that Dan might clamber out of the shower and cause some more bruises to bloom over his skin should he dare to mention Megan.

“Osteogenesis imperfecta is a group of genetic disorders that mainly affect the bones. The term itself means ‘imperfect bone formation’. People with this condition have bones that are brittle and break or fracture easily, often from mild trauma or with no apparent cause. Multiple fractures are common, and in severe cases, can occur even before birth –,” Herbert reeled off, he had been reading about the condition shortly before everything had gone to hell.

“Herbert, stop, stop,” Dan urged, voice rising in volume as Herbert continued until the sound eventually reached him and he stopped. “Tell me something real, tell me something about yourself,” Dan added, the pleading was back and the sound was woeful.

There was too much to tell and Herbert floundered for something to pull out of himself and show Dan. Really, they hardly knew each other, that hadn’t seemed to be a problem before, but now that they were tied by trauma, horror and multiple crimes, it seemed pertinent to reveal some truths. Dan had earned that much. At least it was something that might make up for the gulf in their emotional responses, then Dan would have something to hold onto that proved Herbert was human when he looked back and examined this moment.

“My parents are dead,” Herbert said, leaning his head back against the wall, it was cool upon his heated scalp. “I don’t have a family.”

“Me neither,” Dan returned.

It made sense, Dan didn’t get the calls or post or impromptu visits that Herbert’s first year roommate had. There were no photographs, not that male students usually hung photos of their families. There was no mention of family, no fond recollections that interrupted Herbert’s work. Dan didn’t disappear for the holidays either, unlike the rest of the campus. Herbert should have known.

“My parents died in a car accident,” Dan continued before Herbert could think of anything to say, “I was raised by the neighbours, they were good friends with my parents, Mr and Mrs Johnson,” he babbled and Herbert let him, “it was only a year and a half before I went to college.”

Herbert could so easily imagine a younger Dan, wrought with grief and studying long into the night, just to get into college. With the quiet support of a family that wasn’t his. It must have brought that workhorse ethic out of him. Herbert knew himself that trauma shaped the person you would become, for better and for worse.

“My parents died in a house fire,” Herbert said, leaving out where he was. It was his last year of high school, they had kicked him out of the house the month before, Crawford had been sneaking him food as he lived out of his car. He was parked some ways further down the street, outside the house of an elderly couple who never made a fuss about anything. He wondered where Crawford was now. He didn’t know where Crawford had been the night their parents died, but his brother was there at the police station where they met the people from Child Protective Services. That was only a few weeks before they graduated. He hadn’t seen much of Crawford after that, and it had been a long time since then.

“Were you close?” Dan asked, and Herbert wondered if he was still washing or simply standing there, wasting the hot water.

“No, not really,” Herbert said vaguely, hoping that Dan wouldn’t probe further, surely he knew better than that.

“Have you ever been close with anyone?” Dan asked, like the notion was both novel and endlessly intriguing.

Herbert thought about it. He and Crawford had been close for a time, but it was that forced kind, the closeness of two people stuck in the same awful place until they could finally leave. They didn’t know everything about each other or have much in common, like twins were apparently supposed to. Still, they were amicable enough. Doctor Gruber knew more about Herbert than anyone did, though he would not have called them close. The man had been his mentor and had shown him untold wonders. All the while knowing what he was and treating him with the respect and human decency he deserved. Herbert knew nothing of the man’s personal life and vice versa, though the good doctor had recommended a surgeon, they certainly were not all that close.

The closest he had ever been with anyone was most likely the person asking him that question.

He and Dan were close in a strange sort of way. They were barely friends, but Dan believed in him more than anyone else had. The way he’d defended him in front of Meg, had pleaded their case to the dean, and had put not just his career, his future, on the line but also his life. Herbert doubted that he would find another person like Dan, even if he searched for the rest of his life.

“You,” Herbert forced the short syllable out and coughed, he massaged his aching throat.

The water shut off.

“Huh?” Dan called. Herbert could hear him stepping out of the tub.

“The closest I’ve ever been with anyone is you Dan,” Herbert said, his body was throbbing and he supposed that the adrenaline was finally out of his system, as it was quickly replaced with pain and exhaustion.

Dan was half dressed when he poked his head out into the hall, brown eyes wide as he stared at Herbert. Water dripped down from the wet ends of his hair. Herbert watched one droplet roll down Dan’s nose and drip off of the edge, wet dog. Dan was clean, leaving only the blooming and darkening bruises behind on his fresh skin.

“We’re not close Herbert,” Dan said, and he wasn’t being unkind, it was simply a statement of fact. They weren’t close the way normal people were. Most people hadn’t resurrected the dead together, hadn’t covered up for each other’s crimes, and most people wouldn’t have gone to the lengths for each other that they had. It was a different kind of closeness, one that no one else could ever understand.

“I know that,” Herbert replied, blinking back at Dan. Something like guilt or sympathy washed over Dan’s face then. “I hope you didn’t use all the hot water,” he added, unwilling to listen to whatever inane words of comfort would fall from Dan’s mouth, and made his way into his own room.

Dan stayed close behind, though he didn’t step into Herbert’s room. He stood in the doorway and watched as Herbert gathered a change of clothes, eyes straying toward the mini-fridge in the corner. Herbert bustled out of the room, chasing away the conversation bubbling in Dan’s throat.

“Do you even know when my birthday is?” Dan asked, charred wood signed in those dark eyes as he blocked Herbert’s way.

“November 10th,” Herbert replied, returning Dan’s gaze.

Dan blinked at him, clearly unprepared for this turn of events. Herbert, as usual, used Dan’s shock to his advantage and moved around his frozen frame. It didn’t bother him that Dan didn’t know his birthday. Herbert never gave out information about himself without first being asked, and it wasn’t as though he celebrated his birthday anyway. He was just thankful that he was able to get into the bathroom and lock the door before Dan could crowd in.

“I don’t know your birthday,” Dan called through the door.

Herbert switched the shower back on and peeled out of his clothes. He avoided the mirror, even though it had misted over.

“I know,” Herbert replied as he kicked off his pants.

“I mean, when is your birthday?” Dan asked.

Herbert sighed, he took his glasses off and set them down on the counter, it didn’t really matter.

“April 14th,” he said before stepping into the tub and under the showerhead.

The water was still warm, hot enough to make it run red as the gore sloshed off of him. Bruises stood out against his pale skin. He ached all over, the water helped but only a little, unwinding the tension in his muscles though just by an inch. For the first time in a long time, Herbert was looking forward to climbing into bed.

He dragged his hands through his hair, sighing as his blunt nails moved over his scalp. It was one of the few ways in which he enjoyed touching himself. The water turned brown then pink before it ran clear. He hated how, whenever he washed, he was forced to reckon with the reality of his physical being. It didn’t match up to who he knew he was. It left him quaking with a desire to reassert his masculinity, a fruitless urge.

When he came out of the bathroom, sunlight was spilling fully through the windows. Dan was still stood in the hallway, now fully dressed. He looked up at the sound of Herbert opening the door and swiped his fingers under his eyes. Herbert was too tired to try for comfort. It wasn’t as though he was any good at it.

“You need to sleep Dan,” Herbert said, one hand laid on Dan’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dan murmured.

Herbert gave him a curt nod and made to brush past Dan and disappear into his bedroom, but before he could slip away, Dan’s arms came around his small frame and held on tight.

“Daniel,” Herbert said softly. He was about to extricate himself from Dan’s hold when the sobs began. Herbert froze. He didn’t just hear them, he could feel them too. The stuttering of Dan’s chest and the shaking of his limbs, the quiver of his throat, it was a position he’d very rarely ever been in.

Slowly, he raised his own arms and wrapped them around Dan. They stayed there for some undeterminable amount of time, stood in an embrace. Eventually Dan pulled away and went to bed. That left Herbert alone in the hall. He had felt alone those two months he was locked up in the institute in Switzerland, left behind and alone because of his own failure. What he felt there, in that hall, was a different kind of loneliness. There was a keen absence, an ache, that he felt deep down inside. He was certain that he just needed to sleep.

* * *

The light was too bright, Herbert closed his eyes against it, and still it seemed to invade through the skin of his eyelids. His head was pounding. His whole body was pounding, thrumming with a need he was denying it.

Getting clean for a second time wasn’t easier that the first. Sat in the bathtub, sweating through his undershirt and boxers, Herbert watched as Dan sat on the toilet lid and watched him back. He pressed his head against the cool tiles. They were long past bargaining and pleading ( _just one last shot, a micro-dose anything please_ ), that phase of the endeavour had ended quicker than expected when Dan had grabbed him, and the threat of being found out in such a state tied Herbert’s tongue and stilled his hand.

The dry heaves were finally over, they had already been sat in there for hours, which meant that Dan was about to become sanctimonious. Herbert could see it in the tilt of his mouth.

“Was it really worth it?” Dan asked.

“I don’t see a point in dignifying that with an answer,” Herbert muttered, jaw working against the tiles, he cloud see his breath fogging up the glossy surface.

“I mean shooting up just to not have to eat or sleep, was it worth it?” Dan asked again, digging his heels in.

“What would you get out of me agreeing or disagreeing with you?” Herbert returned. His hands shook as he reached for the glass of water on the counter by the sink. “One way you’re vindicated and I’m humiliated, and the other you’re frustrated like always and I’m just stubborn, what do either of us get out of those outcomes?”

“It’s real fucking irritating when you decide that you know exactly how things are going to go,” Dan said, elbows braced on his knees, his eyes were on the glass slipping in Herbert’s clammy grip.

Herbert steadied himself with his other hand, took two large gulps and held the glass against his tacky thigh at the bottom of the tub.

“So, I take it that you’d like to continue this useless conversation then?” Herbert asked, pressing his temple back to the tiles. His jaw twitched to beg, to make promises his couldn’t keep, but fear was always a better motivator than pleasure and so Herbert kept his mouth shut.

Herbert knew what this was really about, what Dan wouldn’t say but was clear in every single thing he had done since the so called massacre. Dan was an orphan, a poor child who had to pull himself up by his own bootstraps, he’d been climbing toward the pinnacle of his potential and then Megan had died (more accurately Herbert had arrived but he wasn’t going to freely admit to the correlation). Dan was afraid to lose anyone else. Dan was afraid of losing Herbert.

“I just don’t understand how someone as smart as you starts doing drugs,” Dan said with a sigh, playing disappointment. “And especially something so dangerous,” he added, puppy dog eyes shining at Herbert.

“You’d be surprised how much risk is involved in genius,” Herbert returned, clearly Dan hadn’t read much about history’s greatest minds, though it did stroke his ego to hear Dan referring to him so highly. A fresh wave of muscles cramps caused him to sneer.

“I know how much risk is involved, believe me, I know,” Dan said with a bitter dry laugh and shook his head. “What I think you’re doing is running away from real life, I don’t think you can handle it,” he went on, using what little expertise he had picked up from his psyche rotation.

“I’ve been accused of being avoidant before,” Herbert muttered and finished off the water.

“So there’s a pattern of behaviour,” Dan rationalised, as though he had caught Herbert out, tripped him over his own logic. The only thing that stopped Herbert from rolling his eyes was the nausea that rolled through his stomach.

“Everyone has patterns of behaviour Dan,” Herbert bit out, not quite willing to dissect Dan just yet, “I’ve taken the same classes as you.”

“What’s so bad about being like the rest of us?” Dan asked, pivoting the moment he sensed he was losing ground. His eyes were soft as he continued to stare at Herbert.

“But I’m not,” Herbert said, as Dan had so frequently reminded him in so many different ways, Herbert was not like other people. Sometimes Dan enjoyed that difference, other times Dan used it as a weapon against him.

Herbert tried to stand but only managed to kneel, thighs shaking as he reached over to the sink. His hands were slick and he set the glass down too heavily, it clinked awful against the counter, the sound made Herbert wince. He couldn’t reach the tap.

Dan rolled his eyes and rose from the toilet seat, in one stride he was at the sink and pouring water into the glass. Herbert slumped back against the tub. He watched through his smeared glasses as Dan shut the tap off and passed the water to him. Herbert took the glass with greedy hands.

“You should take a shower,” Dan murmured, Herbert could feel the man’s eyes on his throat, watching the lack of movement from a non-existent Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “Sleep this off,” he added, “you need to get some rest for once.”

Once this was over, he going have to do a whole lot of laundry, Herbert thought as he remembered the stench of his sweat soaked sheets in his shoebox apartment in Zurich. Just the thought of it was exhausting. He stayed slouched in the tub. Eyes heavy on Dan’s as the other man continued to stare back at him.

“If you want me to leave Herbert, you just have to ask,” Dan said, tone carefully even.

As though Herbert’s faculties were completely with him, his mind was exhausted to the point of distraction. The words wouldn’t come out and Herbert couldn’t force them. They stayed like that for some time, until a string of words placed themselves on Herbert’s tongue.

“Would you mind?” Herbert asked, brows raised over the frame of his glasses, he struggled to keep his voice steady despite the rasp scratching at his throat.

Dan sighed and left the room, closing the door behind him. Herbert clambered out of the tub and locked it. Pulling the shower curtain back gave him an extra barrier, a further level of comfort he didn’t know he needed.

Herbert washed unsteadily, stood on the shaky legs of a newborn fawn, his movements jittery. He was as quick as he could be. Ignoring certain parts of himself as much as he could, he let the water rush over him and soothe his aching body, and eventually he was able to stand without the fear of collapse. He switched the shower off and carefully climbed out of the tub.

In a way, drying himself was worse than washing. At least he could let the water rush over him and the suds would slide away, he didn’t have to touch himself too much, but when he was drying he had to feel all the ways in which his body was wrong. Usually he would recited sections of textbooks to himself just to take his mind off of it, at that moment though he was too tired to care much about it.

He slipped out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around him, the quick little slaps of his feet on the faux wood flooring followed him into his bedroom, and he hoped to high hell that Dan hadn’t caught sight of him. Herbert scrambled into his disused nightwear.

“Herbert,” Dan called through the door, making Herbert jump out of his skin in the process, “do you think you could eat?” He asked, that earnest concern clear in his tone. Herbert couldn’t stand it, he didn’t need looking after.

“I’ll get myself something later,” Herbert returned, voice still coarse as he pulled a crisp white t-shirt over his head, movements swift with unwarranted fear.

A soft knock tapped against his door just as he was about settle down on the mattress. Herbert rolled his eyes but opened the door nonetheless.

“Yes?” Herbert asked. The exhaustion was clutching at him, pulling him backward toward his bed, he sat heavily upon the mattress as he waited for Dan to talk. The tiredness clawed at his body like the dead rising from their graves, eager to pull him into the soil and never ending slumber. He slipped his fingers up under his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Dan stepped over the threshold and into the room.

“Should I check in on you during the night?” Dan asked hesitantly. “I know you like your privacy,” he added when Herbert didn’t answer.

“I’ll be fine Dan,” Herbert managed and set his glasses down on the bedside table.

Even with his lacking eyesight, Herbert could tell that Dan was not satisfied with this answer.

“If it makes you feel better though, you can do as you please,” Herbert said, blinking slow as he stared at the blurred mass he knew to be Dan.

Dan sighed. He switched the light off, leaving himself silhouetted by the light spilling in from the hall.

“Alright Herbert, good night,” Dan said and left the room.

Darkness enveloped Herbert and he finally let the exhaustion drag his body into the ether.

* * *

Herbert didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but there were times where he would find himself staring at Dan, at the man that was everything he wasn’t and everything he yearned to be. It was hard to deny that Herbert’s own body wasn’t what he wanted. The image that confronted him in the mirror was a terrible treachery, and he avoided it as much as he could, despite how much closer it was to who he knew himself to be these days. The change in his features had been intoxicating to look at, but it only dulled and delayed the reality of his rotten biology.

He wasn’t one for the arts, but he had seen a picture of Michelangelo’s David in a book once, the veins and musculature in the sculpture came to mind whenever Dan’s hands and arms slid into view. The man was practically sculpted from marble.

Puberty had been kind to Dan.

Puberty was nothing short of a nightmare for Herbert.

Herbert had cut his hair short the same day he got his first period. It almost off set the horror of waking up to blood smeared thighs, ruined bed sheets and the churning pain in his abdomen. Almost. He had known it was coming. Herbert already had his sights on becoming a doctor, and they had sat through some inane presentation at school about it, but nothing written on the blackboard or coming out of a teacher’s heavily sanitised mouth could have prepared him for the reality. The shock of it turned him white with fear. It was like something in a horror movie, like something in the trashy pulp novels he hid from his parents like so many boys hid porn.

His mother had laughed at his reaction, at the wild eyed horror on his face, and told him that he was a woman now. A woman at thirteen, Herbert seethed at the notion and rallied against it.

At first he was considered precocious and his efforts to been taken seriously were seen as adorable, earning him a pat on the head. Then he was stubborn. His refusal to move or allow others to bend him was enough to earn the ire of everyone around him. Then he was just depressed, it was a phase he would get over eventually. And then he was a frigid bitch, a dyke, a freak, in need of a good fucking to straighten him out.

College provided some long desired independence and Herbert was finally able to acquire testosterone. His second puberty, his true puberty, was like a re-birth, a resurrection. Switzerland was true freedom. Dr. Gruber was unlike any doctor Herbert had come across, he was truly open-minded and unrestrained by the shackles of prejudice.

And that brought him back to the basement, eyes still on Dan’s masculine hands.

Herbert looked down at his work, at the notes he’d been scrawling before he’d been distracted, the pencil was shaking in his hand. His hands were shaking. That was what he got for lamenting on his past, he thought derisively. It was a futile endeavour, there were far more important things to think about, for one the work at hand. The work was the only thing that mattered.

A large warm hand curled over his own and pulled it away from where he was making a mess of their notes.

“Herbert, come on,” Dan said, voice soft and low in that boyish way that always seemed to get him so far, “it’s late, you need to sleep.” His fingers slid down to Herbert’s wrist, he took the pencil with his other hand and set it down on the table.

Herbert didn’t complain, didn’t refuse or argue like usual, his mind was somewhere else and it wouldn’t do to stand there all night making sloppy mistakes. He let Dan lead him out of the basement and up into the house proper. Those fingers were still around his wrist, a loose hold that he could have broken out of at any time. Dan’s fingers could have closed around his wrist with room to spare. Herbert wondered if Dan ever noticed his feminine frailties, he wondered if Dan noticed and chose to ignore it.

That hand left his wrist as they came to a stop in the hallway. Herbert instantly missed the contact, the furnace like warmth that radiated from Dan’s body. He couldn’t ask for the touch to return. Instead he lifted his eyes to Dan’s face.

“Goodnight Herbert,” Dan murmured, his sharp masculine features softened by the moonlight coming through the uncovered windows.

Herbert felt the urge to move closer, but he didn’t.

“Goodnight Dan,” Herbert replied and departed to his room.

* * *

He had made a mistake. Herbert made far more mistakes than he would ever admit to, but this one was up there with using the reagent on Dr. Hill. For over a year, Herbert had managed to take his shots in peace and privacy. Though, between their classes and shifts at the hospital, along with the study session that Dan somehow required his presence for, it was hard to find the time and he was thankful that they would soon be graduating. That night, Herbert had gotten lost in the work, had forgotten the time and let it slip past him.

“You’re such a hypocrite,” Dan mutter, instantly full of righteous indignation, never mind that he was completely wrong. “You go on and on about distractions when you’re just looking for your own, you’re distracting yourself from life,” he continued, standing in the doorway, “you know, for someone who wants to defeat death, you don’t do an awful lot of living.”

Herbert struggled not to roll his eyes as he set the needle aside, he would dispose of it properly later.

“Not to stop your impassioned speech Daniel, but I think you’ll find that you’re mistaken,” Herbert said, he kept his voice steady as he plucked the vial from the table and held it out between them, all the while slightly curled in on himself as he sat there with pants around his thighs.

He watched Dan read the label. His brows came together, furrowed in confusion as realisation finally came to him, it washed slow like honey over his face.

It had been a long time coming. They couldn’t be around each other the way they were without it coming out eventually. In a way he was surprised it had taken this long. Dan was good at ignoring things, pretending he didn’t see things or at least hadn’t seen the reality of them, it was a decidedly attractive quality that Herbert quietly adored.

“You’re…,” Dan began, swallowed and tried again, “you’re very private,” he murmured after a moment, his eyes skittered over Herbert and found their way back to the vial again.

“You’re a smart boy, I’m sure can figure it out on your own,” Herbert said and jumped from the stool to pull up his slacks, hiding how he was shaking with the forceful motion. He didn’t want to sit around holding Dan’s hand through his revelation. The soft soles of his shoes made no sound as he all but scrambled up the steps, he stumbled into his bedroom, knowing that Dan would respect his privacy.

* * *

In his dreams, Herbert was always a biological man with all the right parts. It was a blessing and a curse, bittersweet dreams. Every night he was who he was always meant to be, in the proper body, and every morning he awoke in this twisted thing that was constantly battling against him.

He awoke to the harsh rattling of his alarm clock. It announced the arrival of a new day in the most obnoxious way, Herbert suspected that it was by design, and he switched it off with a frustrated huff.

There was an itchy kind of fear that clung to his skin as he stared at the ceiling. A fear that things would change, that Dan would no longer see him as the man he was. He had seen the way Dan treated women. It wasn’t easily identified as misogyny and Herbert doubted that he was qualified to say as much, it wasn’t a pat on the ass or a condescending coo, Dan wasn’t the kind of man to let loose a wolf whistle. No, Dan’s failings were more sophisticated than that, naively blind to the sinister underbelly of his words and actions. Though, Herbert had never heard any complaints.

Herbert figured that he might as well as get on with it. Rip the band-aid off. He rose out of bed just to see what fresh hell awaited him in the shared space of their home.

He found Dan on the couch, sneering with every sip of his too bitter coffee, as he watched the morning news. So far it was just like any other morning. Usually Herbert would have gotten his own coffee, black was fine by him, and perhaps a slice of toast before he sat down with Dan and criticised the news anchors. At that moment Herbert’s stomach was churning so much that he doubted that he would have been able to keep down a single bite. He cleared his throat and Dan’s head snapped toward him.

“Morning Daniel,” he said, struggling to sound like his normal self as he lowered himself onto the arm chair opposite the couch. He turned toward the television so he wouldn’t have to watch Dan watch him.

“Uh, Herbert, we don’t have to, but I’d like to talk or I,” Dan said, clearly going through his own struggle, Herbert kept his eyes on the TV set. Dan’s throat clicked as he swallowed before trying again. “It’s fine, I mean, I’ve treated transsexual patients in the clinic before, not many but a few and I just,” Dan sighed, staring holes into the side of Herbert’s face. “You’re getting a real kick out of this aren’t you?”

Herbert wouldn’t deny that he took some pleasure from watching Dan flounder, it helped that he clearly meant well (as he always did) and simply didn’t have the vocabulary to explain himself. In fact Herbert was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

“Herbert, don’t laugh at me, I’m trying here,” Dan whined and Herbert finally looked at him, Dan was all kicked puppy with his round dark eyes and his head was cocked to the side. His eyes were shining.

“How noble of you,” Herbert said, showing teeth as he smiled.

Yes, Dan always did mean well, but Herbert didn’t like the implication that he should be thankful. Thankful that Dan hadn’t done any of the things that many others had threatened to do before. Herbert wasn’t the kind to show gratitude simply because the boot wasn’t against his throat, most especially since he’d had to crawl out from under it on his own.

Dan was still staring at him, as though he were waiting for something, he should have known better that to expect an outpouring of gratitude from Herbert, of all people. The disappointment was grating.

“I’m not going to tell anyone Herbert, so you can stop acting all defensive,” Dan said, deflating as he sat back against the couch.

“Defensive?” Herbert asked, brows rising over the rim of his glasses, infuriated.

“Your shoulders are practically up to your ears and your voice has got that sharp pissy quality it gets whenever something’s got you on edge,” Dan explained as Herbert’s eyebrows came together in a deep frown. Dan looked at his watch. “You should grab something to eat, we’ve got class in an hour,” he added, eyes flicking to Herbert before he finished off his now lukewarm coffee, grimacing at the cup as he pulled it away.

Herbert rose from the chair and moved about the house without saying a word. The exchange had gone well, Herbert supposed, all things considered. At least his heart wasn’t still jammed up at the bottom of his throat anymore.

* * *

Things changed, of course. Though the things that did change were different from what Herbert had expected. Dan watched him now. Of course Dan had always watched him before, those round Retriever eyes at first alight with intrigue and then filled with boundless wonder mixed in with the horror, though the wonder had dimmed since Meg’s death and the events of that night. And now there was something underneath that curious gaze. Now there was some kind of bright interest, not quite the looks he gave those of the female sex, but something close to it. It made Herbert squirm to be under so much scrutiny. He’d have preferred for Dan to stay focused on the work at hand.

Dan stayed close. They had lived practically on top of each other for the last year and a half. The house wasn’t large, it didn’t even have a second floor, and they were often bumping into each other in the narrow hallway. It had never been like this though. Dan was practically close enough to be his shadow. It felt like he was waiting for Herbert to slip up, as though he would somehow stumble and show the femininity of his true nature.

At least he didn’t touch, Herbert considered that a small grace. There was no hand on the small of his back, no careful or calculated touch, as he brushed by. Dan didn’t patronise him. It had been infuriating in his youth, the constant questioning of whether he truly knew who he was, and the assurances that he would change his mind eventually. It was nice to know that Dan maintained an understanding of Herbert’s sure nature. There were no comments either. No probing questions about his previous life. Dan likely knew that Herbert did not have the patience for it, that he would not take kindly to any of it.

That didn’t stop Herbert from noticing the slowly straining tension beneath it all. Something would give, eventually.

* * *

They stood alone together at graduation. People moved around them, captured in the arms of friends and family, cameras went off every other second. At first, a few people had stopped to congratulate Dan and ask him what was next for Misktonic’s best and brightest. It quickly became apparent that Dan’s answers were pre-prepared, which was curious. They tried to speak to Herbert too, obviously out of sheer politeness, and Herbert gave his own rehearsed answers. Dan easily evaded countless invitations to the assuredly ‘apocalyptic’ graduation party happening later that night. He found that curious too and Herbert’s interest deepened.

As the crowd began to thin, Dan suggested that they go home. Stopped beside the car, Herbert couldn’t get out of the gown quick enough. He threw the fabric in the back and tossed the cap along with it, Dan followed suit and Herbert figured that they might not get the deposit on their rental back.

“Not to pry Daniel, but I was wondering why you declined the many invitations to the, and I quote, ‘party to end all parties’?” Herbert asked as he buckled his seatbelt and Dan switched on the engine, the radio was brought to life with the rumbling of the car.

“You’d be alone,” Dan replied, as though that cleared everything up. He avoided Herbert’s eyes and pulled out of the parking lot.

“I think I can handle myself for one night,” Herbert said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He wondered if it was chivalry, a sense that he shouldn’t be left alone lest something untoward happen in Dan’s absence. Herbert often wondered what fate men imagined befell women when left to their own devices.

“I’d rather be with you,” Dan said, they were stopped at a red light, but Dan still wouldn’t look at Herbert. He continued to stare resolutely through the windscreen.

Herbert stifled a laugh, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What?” Dan asked, almost pained, as he flicked his eyes to Herbert for a second or two.

“I just assumed that you would have jumped at the chance of easy access to willing women and copious amounts of alcohol,” Herbert explained. He had prepared himself for some sort of argument where Dan demanded a night off, free to unwind and actually enjoy himself. Herbert had already decided to let Dan be, at least for a few days. This turn of events was thoroughly unexpected.

“We have beer at home,” Dan said and pulled away as the light finally turned green.

“There aren’t any women there though,” Herbert said, firmly, hoping to nip that particular train of thought in the bud.

“I know that Herbert,” Dan replied, hands tensed on the steering wheel, “that’s not what I’m looking for.”

Herbert didn’t bother to ask exactly what Dan _was_ looking for. As long as he wasn’t chasing Herbert around as a replacement for skirt, then he didn’t really care what he wanted.

It wasn’t long before they were back at the house. Herbert took the gowns and caps from the back of the car, Dan waited for him before he locked it, his eyes were on Herbert as he rose with the fabric gathered in his arms. More strange behaviour, Herbert catalogued it away to be examined later. He followed Dan into the house.

He kicked the door closed behind him and set about folding the gowns. It wasn’t a good job, Herbert barely managed to iron one shirt a week, and he just wasn’t the type for laundry. He put the folded bundle down on the disused dining table. The act was more a way to delay whatever words were waiting in Dan’s mouth than anything else, he could feel him hovering close behind.

“Do you wanna get drunk and watch shitty movies?” Dan asked when Herbert eventually turned around.

“Not particularly,” Herbert replied honestly.

“I’m not going to do anything Herbert, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Dan said, his expression pained as he stared down at Herbert, he was rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I know Dan,” Herbert said flatly, forcing his jaw to stay lax against the urge to grind his teeth. “I simply have other things I’d rather be doing,” he added. Taking a step back would draw too much attention, but that didn’t stop the animalistic paranoia from pulling at his muscles.

“Hebert, can’t you take one night off?” Dan asked, head cocked to the side, eyes wide and round like a dog pleading for attention.

“Science doesn’t take nights off,” Herbert said, jutting his jaw out as he stared up at Dan.

“But people do,” Dan returned. He reached out but refrained from actually touching Herbert, he never touched Herbert, not anymore. It was almost like he was afraid to. Afraid of what, Herbert couldn’t fathom, breaking him maybe? Worse people than Daniel Cain had tried and failed.

Herbert stared at Dan’s hands, still twitching in the air between them.

“Please Herbert,” Dan pled. “Just tonight, humour me this one time,” he added as he took a single step forward.

It wouldn’t be the first concession he had made for Dan’s sake, just to keep his willing assistant, and it certainly would not be the last. They were often useful to keep Dan pliant, to keep him an active participant. And small concessions were a part of any partnership after all.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Herbert murmured.

The smile that crawled across Dan’s was almost charming. It was hard to discern exactly what Dan was trying to get out of this, if he needed company then Dan had the opportunity to spend it with practically whoever he wanted. The idea that Dan just wanted to spend time with him was novel. Herbert stayed where he was and watched as Dan moved into the kitchen.

Dan returned moments later with two cans of beer, cool from the fridge. Herbert hadn’t agreed to the alcohol but he supposed that Dan saw that as part of the general agreement. He took the proffered can and followed Dan to the couch. Herbert sat down and watched Dan crouch beside the TV to root through the box of tapes, the house was still littered with boxes, neither of them had really moved in.

“What do you want to watch?” Dan asked, looking back over his shoulder at Herbert, the sound of the VHS tapes rattling against each other was grating.

“I don’t have any particular preference,” Herbert said as he let the unopened can sweat in his hands. He appreciated the projected masculinity of the drink and that Dan hadn’t offered him wine or something else that was strangely considered feminine (just why people gendered inanimate objects was beyond him). However, he wasn’t one to consume things that dulled the senses, quite the opposite actually.

Dan shrugged as though he had expected as much. It didn’t take him any time at all to pick something and Herbert watched as he pushed the tape into the VCR. Dan sat back on the couch as the movie began to play. It was something dark, definitely a horror movie. The villain’s arms grew in a comical fashion that had Herbert stifling a laugh. He finally opened his beer.

“What am I to you Herbert?” Dan asked, seemingly out of nowhere, he hadn’t said anything since the movie started, he had just been sat there quietly sipping at his beer as the sweater wearing dream demon terrorized a handful of teens.

Herbert knew that ‘my assistant’ would not be deemed an adequate answer, and was obviously not what Dan was looking for.

“You’re my friend,” Herbert said, he cleared his throat before he continued. “You’re my best friend.” In truth Dan was his only friend. That fact didn’t mean much of anything to him, he felt no way about it, though he did admit (if only to himself) that having Dan around had far more pros than cons and the pros were more than just Dan’s utility to him.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend too,” Dan murmured with a slight nod, he only nodded like that when he was nervous.

Herbert wasn’t entirely surprised by the confession. He doubted that Dan would still be here if there wasn’t something between them, though the candour and earnestness sounded more intimate than friendly.

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” Dan asked after a moment, dropping the question like a concrete slab into the tranquil pool of their conversation.

“Telling you what Dan?” Herbert asked, he could have guessed what Dan was getting at, but he wasn’t one to pussy foot around a subject.

“That you’re a transsexual,” Dan said with some effort, someone was screaming but the television was forgotten, more bricks into the water.

“Perhaps,” Herbert said after some deliberation.

Dan sighed, finished off his beer, got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. It was well within the expected range of reactions, Dan’s outbursts were connected to the threat of life, and in all other matters his reactions were usually restrained. He returned a minute or two later with two more beers and set one down in front of Herbert. The crack of a new can being opened shot through the room as Herbert stared at the can before him on the coffee table, he was only half way through with his first, though he supposed if this was where the conversation was going then he might as well finish the now lukewarm beer in his hands.

“I just,” Dan said as he sat down again, “we need to trust each other.”

“I do trust you Dan,” Herbert returned, brows furrowed. Dan knew every important thing about him, Dan knew all of his worst secrets, every damning thing about him. His trust was insurmountable. If anyone’s trust was in question, it was not Herbert’s. “It isn’t me who wavers.”

He watched as Dan swallowed, brown eyes glued to Herbert’s face, wavering once again.

“I trust you to be yourself,” Dan murmured, mouth moving against the aluminium of the can. He tipped it back and took a long gulp. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his skin shone eerily in the ethereal light from the television.

Herbert didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. He turned his eyes back toward the movie and opened his second beer, the crack was satisfying but it echoed awkwardly through the silence between them, he took his first sip as the teen girl began to argue with her parents. The bleak blue light danced across the coffee table and Herbert’s black clad knees. He could feel Dan watching him, could just about it make it out from the corner of his eye.

“Something else on your mind?” Herbert asked, his patience was wearing thin and the alcohol was making him tired.

Dan didn’t answer, at least not with words. Herbert looked back toward Dan as he felt the noticeable dip in the cushions between them. Lips captured his own, fingers slid against the side of his face until a hand was cupping his cheek, another hand pressed down upon his shoulder as Dan crowded him into the corner of the couch. Dan was so warm against him. It seeped in through every point of contact, and his skin was suddenly aflame.

“Oh,” Herbert breathed as Dan pulled away.

Herbert would have been lying if he said that he hadn’t considered this outcome before. Dan was easy to look at, that much barely warranted stating, but the part that made it so tantalizing was the way Dan gave so easily to him. It was most starkly apparent when they first met. How quickly Dan came to his defence, most especially in front of Megan, any other man surely would have listened to their fiancé over him. The quiet and restrained looks of awe that so often shifted into frustration tinged with fondness. And all of that was before Dan had found out about the true disaster of his biology. Still, he had hadn’t dreamed that Dan would make any sort of advance, it was a welcome surprise.

“Oh?” Dan repeated, blinking back at Herbert, hands still on the smaller man’s shoulders.

“My attraction to you has simply taken me by surprise,” Herbert said, it wasn’t wholly untrue and Dan would get to feel like he had the upper hand for once.

“You didn’t realise that you’re attracted to me?” Dan asked, head tilted to the side and Herbert was overcome with the urge to pet him. It was almost cruel how easy he was to lead around.

“It’s frankly not an experience I am used to,” Herbert muttered and set his can of beer down as Dan continued to stare dumbly at him. “I’m quite the novice when it comes to romantic matters, as I’m sure you’re aware,” he added, staring squarely back at Dan.

“That makes sense,” Dan said slowly, as though he didn’t entirely believe Herbert, but Herbert had been able to work around Dan’s suspicion before. “It doesn’t make sense in a normal way, but it sort of makes sense in a Herbert kind of way,” he went on, smile turning lopsided as his hand moved back up Herbert’s arm.

“I’m not an entirely different species Daniel, I am human after all,” Herbert said, though it was hard to feel offended, especially with those warm hands still against him.

“Could have fooled me,” Dan said with a breezy laugh, thumbs rubbing soft circles into Herbert’s shoulders.

“Well, you’re the one who kissed me, so what’s the verdict Dr. Cain, am I human?” Herbert asked, toying with the hem of Dan’s shirt, he felt the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hmm,” Dan hummed in faux consideration, “I don’t know, I think I’ll have to investigate further before I can come to a conclusion,” he added and began to lean in again.

Herbert met him half way, eager to feel the soft and tantalizing crush of their lips pressed together.

* * *

Summer gave into autumn as the newness washed off of their residency like so many leaves clogging up the drains against the sidewalk. Not much had changed in that short time. The cycle of work, eat, sleep and the real work went on as smoothly as a Swiss timepiece. The only real change was the additional intimacy of their fledgling relationship. Dan was careful. His touches and kisses were never too much, never enough to overwhelm Herbert and never in places that would cause alarm, but they were firm. It was as though Dan was trying desperately to leave an impression upon him. As if he hadn’t done that already.

At least Dan touched him like a man.

He had feared that Dan would start treating him like any other woman he’d gotten his hands on. Herbert remembered the way he’d touch Meg with startling clarity. Hands gentle and tone placating. Dan had never been so soft with him and thankfully that hadn’t change with this new development.

They stayed in the same house. Now finally unpacked and free from the clutter of boxes, Herbert guessed that at some point Dan had gotten tired of living in not quite a home. Herbert, himself, had never really taken to the concept of home. Even when he was growing up, before his revelation, home was simply the place where he resided. Though, he did prefer the lack of obstacles to stumble over in the dark.

Dan’s baseball bat had moved from his bedroom to the top of the stairs leading down into the basement. The shovel was propped against the fridge, within reach. Dan never touched him in the basement. He probably didn’t want to connect the work to that aspect of their relationship in his head, as though it were an act of sacrilege.

They still slept in separate rooms. The petting never got _heavy_ , at least not the way the saying meant. It was something of a virginal courtship. Chaste kisses over morning coffee, lingering eyes in the cafeteria, the electrifying brush of hands in hospital corridors, a gentle hand on his shoulder as he was urged to rest, a firm steadying hand on his knee as Dan rose from the couch, the feel of fingers moving through his tacky hair as he was told to shower, and the slow make-out sessions on the couch that unfolded strangely just like any other lesson that Herbert had ever taken.

Those sweet teen romance touches that left behind the promise of more. It left Herbert frustrated in ways he didn’t usually have to deal with, though his erections were never as much of an obvious problem as Dan’s. The sight of it was an odd relief. It was proof that Dan truly felt something toward him, that he felt a real attraction toward him.

Herbert tried not to examine it too much, this fragile thing between them, lest it break under the scrutiny. He’d been known to stare into the gaping maw of a gift horse, but he wasn’t about to over-examine the delicate present that Dan had handed him. Besides, it was another reason for Dan to stay, a reason when all other arguments failed. He had threatened to leave but never managed to spend more than a night away. Herbert supposed that he slept in his car or got a motel room, though the thought left him cold, he had to remind himself that Dan wasn’t vulnerable in the same ways as him. The important thing was that Dan always came back.

There was a part of Herbert that was quietly petrified that Dan would leave for good if he didn’t give in and spread his legs some time soon. He had been Dan’s roommate for several weeks before things really hit the fan. He had heard him with Megan, begging for seconds. He had heard Dan with a handful of nameless and faceless girls in the time between Megan’s death and his sweet little confession. There would be no one to hear him, thank heavens.

He knew that Dan had better reasons to leave. The crimes that were stacking up around them for one, Herbert’s own hand in Megan’s death, his single-mindedness toward the continuation of their work and much more besides, Herbert was sure. That didn’t stop Herbert’s fears from focusing on this one aspect.

It must have become too noticeable at some point, must have shown in his behaviour, and eventually Dan caught on to Herbert’s secret fear.

“I really don’t mind,” Dan murmured with his lips against the shell of Herbert’s ear.

They were sprawled on the couch, Herbert in Dan’s lap, as they made out in slow impassioned movements. Dan’s hand was wrapped firmly around Herbert’s thigh while the other was pressed to the small of his back.

“Mind what?” Herbert asked as he leaned back, coming to eye level with Dan.

“Taking things slow,” Dan elaborated. His thumb rubbed steady circles into Herbert’s thigh.

“Are you frustrated by the pace of this current activity or the relationship in general?” Herbert asked, one brow artfully raised as he watched Dan’s face, he hoped that Dan would put his racing pulse down to arousal rather than the anticipatory fear that was currently coursing through him.

“Neither, Herbert, I swear,” Dan said, and Herbert revelled in the way Dan squirmed beneath him. “It’s all new to me, so I appreciate taking the time to learn how to do this with you,” he added, voice a little higher as his face scrunched up in the way it always did when he found himself on the defensive.

If bone could melt Herbert would have slid straight off of Dan’s lap.

“It’s quite new to me too,” Herbert admitted, he always found his tongue loosened whenever Dan did or said something agreeable, it wasn’t a reaction he was proud of but it did serve some candour to their relationship that wouldn’t otherwise appear.

“So, we’ll take it slow,” Dan said, smiling that boyish disarming thing that even Herbert was not entirely immune to. His grip turned firm once again.

He was certain that Dan thought of it as a romantic gesture, but Herbert was never happier to be understood as an equal. Either way, the action was deserving of praise and Herbert had learnt some new ways to show Dan that he was appreciated.

With a light press of his teeth against Dan’s jaw, he murmured something he would never say lightly, lips moving over Dan’s sensitive and freshly shaved skin. It was a thrill to feel him shiver.

“I truly am blessed to have you Danny,” he pressed the words to Dan’s skin like so many kisses. He was blessed because he certainly did not deserve the man beneath him. Even if it were atonement for the mistake of his biology, he had committed enough blasphemy and other assorted crimes to tip the scales.

He wasn’t so blinded by love or any other common romantic malady to believe that this would last.

* * *

Dan kept his distance while they were in Peru, rightly assuming that the constant humidity and his ever dwindling smuggled supply of testosterone would make Herbert irritable and skittish. That and the return of his accursed period, it felt as though his body were raging its own personal war against him. The lack of progress in their work only made matters worse.

It was odd, the forced distance between them in an environment where space was at a premium. They could hardly move without rubbing elbows. Breathing the same air, too much carbon dioxide, it was a claustrophobic absence.

He wasn’t cut out for war. Herbert was a fighter, that much was for sure, but he’d never been any good at it. Of course he could shoot a gun, but at a certain distance the skill counted for nil. The dead and dying surrounded them. The maimed left their tent as quickly as possible, fleeing the stench of death. Dan had once commented that they could probably sense the doom in the air. Herbert had not taken it kindly.

Dan was more geared toward the machine of war, though his great distaste for it cancelled out any ability he had. He even refused to carry a weapon. The way he watched Herbert whenever he drew the pistol was akin to the look he wore when Herbert had a hypo filled with reagent in his hand. It was a quick fall of disgust tinged with a morbid fascination that he would deny having.

Things went to hell and fast. In hindsight Herbert supposed that he probably should have expected as much, especially in the middle of a warzone, but he was nothing if not single-minded and often forgot the consequences of his recklessness. His latest failure was harder to sweep under the rug than usual.

It was just like any other night. His body was uncomfortably slick from the humidity, their efforts to save the life of another solider whose face Herbert would swiftly forget slipped away into futility, predictably Dan slouched off to sulk. Face and hands drenched with blood. It was a familiar sight, and Herbert kept the thrill of it to himself. Instead he filled a hypo and jammed it into the freshly lifeless form before him. The results were, frankly, disappointingly predictable. Dan’s weak objections barely reached his ear as the gun smoked beneath the notebook perched upon his forearm.

He had no awareness of the events outside the tent, not until Francesca interrupted them. He only cocked the gun to emphasis his point, he didn’t intend to use it, and they were simply too close to another breakthrough to afford any outside interference. It didn’t help that Dan’s eyes had been wandering. Forbidden fruit was far more enchanting than something you had already taken a bite out of and left for later, hoping that the worm would leave before you returned.

The tent went up in flames before Herbert could finish his sentence. Dan was trying to corral him outside, it was the first time Dan had touched him in months, though Herbert wasn’t thinking about it at the time. His focused, as always, was on his work. And Dan was there to save him, as always, from his own recklessness.

Skewered by a bayonet, precious blood spilled on the dirt floor. Herbert didn’t have time to be shocked or scared, there was never any time for such frivolous things as emotions in war, and it was action that was required. He acted as fast and skilfully as he could. His heart was racing, veins flooded with adrenaline, he let off five shots and soon enough the two attackers were dead. As soon as their bodies hit the floor, Herbert’s attention returned to Dan.

Crouched in front of the only person he cared for, Herbert forced himself into a state of professionalism as he ripped open Dan’s shirt to inspect the damage. Thankfully it was nothing more than a flesh wound. The amount of blood was overly dramatic and the pallor of Dan’s skin was alarming. With all the bedside manner he didn’t have, Herbert assured Dan that he’d be fine. He would be fine, Herbert told himself, Dan would be fine because Herbert was there to save him for once.

He made quick work of disinfecting the wound in the back of an army truck, he was particularly proud that he managed satisfactory stitches given the rough terrain. The gloves came off of his hands with a snap and he slumped onto the bench seat. He watched the gentle rise and fall of Dan’s chest as they trundled toward safety.

They would return home. Back in Arkham he would have access to testosterone, his period would stop again, and his body would find equilibrium again. That thought alone was bliss. No more days spent sweating through his clothes, and they would no longer stick to his body in an awfully inescapable reminder of what he was lacking. Eventually he would he return to the version of himself he had become used to, the version he preferred to this soft oestrogen flooded one. It was a hard won precarious contentment that he was eager to reach again. And Dan would be able to touch him again, and they could finally continue the relationship that they had put on pause for so many months.

* * *

The flight into LAX had been cramped and uncomfortable, both things that Herbert rarely noticed and would have gone unnoticed had it not been for Dan’s presence, he shifted and groaned in discomfort beside Herbert throughout the flight. No doubt his healing wound was giving him grief. He would have to wait. Herbert lamented the strain in Dan’s expression and patted the back of his hand every now and then. He supposed it was of little comfort, but it was the best he could provide given the circumstances.

They brought a used car, nothing flashy just something that would get them back to Massachusetts, and rented a motel room for the night. It looked just like any other motel room he’d seen, a copy of a copy of a copy. For a moment he wondered what the original looked like and quickly came to the conclusion that it probably looked exactly the same as the one he was currently standing in, and that the line of thought was pointless.

He corralled Dan into the room and pressed him down upon the mattress. Dan laid flat with a groan, hand gingerly pressed to his abdomen. Herbert retrieved what was left of his battered first aid kit. He set it on the corner of the bed, not far from Dan’s knee, and prepared his supplies.

“Lift your shirt,” Herbert ordered as he left the room to scrub his hands clean.

“War hasn’t dampened your charm I see,” Dan muttered with little humour and Herbert wondered just what he’d been expecting.

Herbert examined Dan against the bed, looming over him. Dan gasped at the cool touch. The stitches were holding strong though there had been some seepage likely caused by the irritation of sitting in a cramped plane for several hours. He went about cleaning the wound with the clinical professionalism he did with all his work, by the expression on Dan’s face there was more expected of him. The man below him said nothing as he redressed the wound. It was uncharacteristic, but not entirely unexpected.

In a way, Herbert supposed that he had expected some sort of blame to be laid at his feet. Dan seemed to believe that he himself was free from that same blame, free from decision making and his own choices, while he cast Herbert as the mastermind manipulator. Though Herbert would not deny that he guided Dan, all of his choices and decisions were Dan’s own. Herbert would not stop him if he chose to leave. He didn’t have much use for an unwilling assistant.

“There, that should be much better,” Herbert said rather perfunctorily.

He looked down at Dan as the man stared dispassionately at the ceiling. Herbert didn’t know how to deal with this sort of situation, he had no experience with romantic relationships, and it was more than likely that he would make a wrong move if he chose to make any at all. It was a doomed endeavour if there ever was one.

It was almost like staring decay in the face. He wondered if the distance between them, not physical but emotional, and the lack of the intimacy they’d had before Peru had rotted their ill-formed relationship.

* * *

Dan stayed quiet on their cross-country drive, he didn’t say a word about the detour Herbert took toward San Francisco, and he sat and waited in the car as Herbert went to get his first shot of testosterone in months. The relief he felt was all but completely soured in the face of Dan’s brooding.

The road stretched out in front of them. A pervading silence that was only broken when Dan switched the radio on, Herbert didn’t have the heart to turn it off or have the ensuing argument that would surely occur. His mind was far too full of idle worries. Frankly he was irritated with himself, instead of worrying about whatever it was that was between them, he should have been thinking about their next move toward greatness. He should have been thinking about the work.

And yet there he was wondering exactly what had gotten into Dan, what he saw and didn’t see in Herbert. They hadn’t touched in months and despite Dan’s previous assurances that it didn’t matter, the thought had stayed in Herbert’s mind as he watched Dan watch Francesca. She was a woman who certainly fit the mould of Dan’s previous conquests.

Perhaps there was too much distance between them. It may have been that distance that had led Dan’s eyes to wander, and it may also have led him to see Herbert in the horrific light he was so often cast. He supposed that the constant presence of death and gore had not helped.

The next time Dan spoke to him was to tell him to pull over so that they could switch places. Herbert pulled over, but he didn’t get out of the car.

“It’s a fresh start Dan, a chance to redeem ourselves and begin anew,” Herbert said, hands still gripped around the steering wheel. He stared Dan in the face, it almost felt like staring down the barrel of a gun, but he had always felt it better to face your fate than shy away from it. “I want to start anew.”

“That’s not really possible,” Dan replied. He was leaning toward the door, seatbelt unbuckled.

Herbert was trying, more accurately he was floundering. He still wasn’t ready to initiate any form of physical contact. Dan might have appreciated reassurance that there was still something physical between them, but Herbert’s body did not feel like his own, and he did not want to touch Dan with those foreign hands.

“I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know how to make this better,” Herbert said, letting his hands fall to his lap, he hoped that the honesty would afford him some leeway.

Dan sighed, he ran a hand through his overgrown hair as he stared resolutely out the windshield, cars whizzed by in the growing silence. The way the piercing morning light shone in his eyes, it gave Dan an uncharacteristically melancholic quality. Herbert’s palms were clammy. He felt tacky all over, it would be good for him to get out of the car and stretch his legs, but they needed to finish this conversation.

“I’m just tired Herbert,” Dan said, he scratched at the edge of the bandages around his stomach. “We both need some time, after…everything that’s happened, just give it some time,” he went on, and Herbert supposed that he was referring to the frustrating monotony of their stalling research and their strained relationship, instead of simply the harrowing events of war.

Herbert gave a curt nod and clambered out of the car. He would give it time, until his body felt like his own again, until he could feel the stubble on his chin again, until the awed light returned to Dan’s eyes, and he didn’t look so lost and pained, until the pair of them weren’t so bone achingly tired. As they said ‘time heals all wounds’. Herbert had certainly seen it work wonders on the physical kind, and he could only hope that the same was true for the chipped and cracked thing that he supposed was their relationship.

* * *

After three months things had returned to a kind of normal, for the most part. Herbert’s body was his own again, a more familiar shape, though he was frequently dissatisfied with it, there was always worse to slide back into. The return to some sort of normalcy beneath his clothes was frankly euphoric. They were able to easily slip into their old jobs, there weren’t a lot of doctors chomping at the bit to work at Miskatonic General considering its history, and the irony was not lost on Herbert. They had found the perfect home after a month of staying in a dingy motel. It was close to the town boarder. A former funeral home stood beside a meagre cemetery, the basement was quite literally built for Herbert’s requirements. They moved in immediately. Dan seemed better, happy to be around people outside of a warzone and finally able to be his usual sociable self again, it probably helped that the stitches were out too. That particular wound had healed nicely.

And yet, and yet things were still not quite right between them.

Herbert wasn’t a fool, he hadn’t expected to just pick up from where they had left off, but he had expected for there to be something. Dan hadn’t tried to touch him since they’d returned to Arkham.

Obviously something had to give. Herbert expected Dan to announce that he was leaving, he suspected that Dan would do it just to hear him beg, to be shown proof that he was needed enough to be bargained for. Or maybe it would come out in one of their frequent arguments. It was like picking up a well worn script, they both knew their parts and played them well. Or Dan would take him by the shoulders and kiss him until he was dizzy from the lack of oxygen. That one was perhaps far too romantic for their particular dynamic, though it was a nice thought. However it would come out, Herbert was waiting for it with baited breath.

Despite knowing that something was coming and even bracing for it, Herbert was taken by surprise when Dan broached the subject on their way home from work one evening. Things didn’t quite give as much they snapped.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” Dan murmured, voice barely audible above the hum of the car.

“We haven’t done anything yet,” Herbert returned, struggling to keep a lid on his impatience and irritation, he adjusted his grip on the wheel. They had only just moved in. He had barely had the time to set up his laboratory. They hadn’t had time to do a single thing that would sour Dan’s moral sensibilities.

“That’s not what I mean,” Dan said.

“Then tell me what you mean,” Herbert said, eyes steady on the road ahead of them, they would soon be home.

“This fucked up relationship Herbert,” Dan replied, hand shooting out between them. Herbert’s heart smacked against the back of his teeth.

“What about it is ‘fucked up’ exactly?” Herbert asked, brows pinched as he tried not to sneer.

“The part where you use it to manipulate me, the part where it’s hard for me to tell whether you really care about me, whether you actually feel anything for me,” Dan said, the words punched out of him until he was spent and breathing heavily as he slumped back against his seat. Clearly he’d been having these thoughts for some time.

“You think that my feelings toward you are insincere?” Herbert said, forming the words slowly in his mouth, mulling them over, they tasted bitter.

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you,” Dan said, almost abruptly changing the melody but keeping to the same theme, his eyes were out the passenger window, watching the scenery pass them by.

“You know me better than anyone Daniel,” Herbert admitted, hoping for a red light to stall the conversation and give him more time to sort things through, “I would have that thought that you would know better than to think that I would let you touch me for nothing more than some sort of material gain.” He clenched his hands around the steering wheel.

“It’s hard to tell when I know so little about you,” Dan said.

It felt as though they were talking about two completely different sets of people. Cross talk from different conversations in different parallel universes.

“You know everything about me,” Herbert replied, briefly looking over at Dan to show the other his bewilderment. There wasn’t a person alive who knew more about him than Dan did.

“I don’t know where you grew up, where you did your undergrad, I don’t know anything about your family, what you wanted to be when you were a kid, whether you had any pets or any of the things most couples know about each other,” Dan explained, frustration clear in his voice. It wasn’t as though he’d ever asked Herbert any of these questions, but Herbert knew better than to point out Dan’s inherent hypocrisy.

“The past isn’t important Dan, you know who I am now, that’s more important,” Herbert said instead, laying out his philosophy, though he doubted Dan would be willing to see this from his point of view.

“The past is what makes you who you are,” Dan said, “it informs who you become,” he added, it sounded like something straight out of a self-improvement lecture.

“Since when were you interested in the dynamics of nature and nurture Daniel?” Herbert asked with a sneer, crooked teeth on display.

“I just want to know you Herbert,” Dan said again.

Herbert gritted his teeth. Their home loomed in the distance with all the grim ominous atmosphere afforded to funeral homes. It was advancing quickly and Herbert suddenly felt like one of Hitchcock’s heroines, much to his masculine chagrin. The horrific pressure of imminent collapse made his head pound.

He pulled up outside the house and shut off the engine. Silence filled the car. As was usual between them, Herbert took the first step into no man’s land and clambered out of the car, Dan followed behind him. Despite the silence, Herbert knew this wasn’t over. And sure enough the conversation continued as soon as the front door closed behind them.

“What’s so wrong with being known?” Dan asked. His expression pained as he leant against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest.

“I wish you could understand the frustration of having to continually declare that you do know me,” Herbert muttered, he didn’t know what to do with his hands, and he didn’t know where to stand. “I do not see how where I did my undergrad would enlighten you and illuminate some hidden part of my identity when you already know me so wholly,” he added, feeling much like a wrung out dish rag.

“It’s just stuff that regular people get to know about each other,” Dan returned, matching Herbert’s own frustration.

“That person is dead, Daniel, the little girl who wanted a chemistry set and got a nurse’s play set instead is long dead and buried,” Herbert yelled in reply, the memory still burned, kindling that ignited the moment it was touched.

“I’m not talking about that,” Dan shot back with as much force. He stood free from the wall, arms open and expression tight as though it were only Herbert who was being stubborn.

Herbert could have screamed. Did all their arguments have to be so circular, the constant spiralling was maddening?

“That’s all my past is Dan, you cannot divorce one from the other,” Herbert said, sneering, “my past is a long drawn out death, a metamorphosis a decade in the making, it’s torture to look back on and I am no glutton for pain,” he continued, trying to explain his tangled feelings in a way that Dan would understand.

Dan groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. Clearly Dan found Herbert difficult, Herbert had been accused of being difficult before, most especially when confronted with the romantic overtures of others.

“What? What do you want from me Daniel?” Herbert asked, hands shaking as he tore his suit jacket off and threw it to the floor, the rage in his voice rattled him as much as it seemed to shock Dan into stillness. “Do you want me to bare my soul to you, to explain every unbearable moment, every dismissive pat on the head, and every spat accusation of frigidity that led me to your doorstep? Do you want me to cut myself open, exposed and on display for the good, kind, charming Doctor Daniel Cain to examine and treat and heal with those hands that only know the shape of women? Do you want me to hand myself over to you completely? You’ve already had everything else, why not take my body too?” As he spoke he continued to strip, eyes on Dan’s as he kicked his shoes off, loosened his tie until it slipped through his fingers, unbuckled and pulled his belt through the loops of his pants. Dan only seemed to come back to himself when the belt clattered noisily against the floorboards.

For the first time in months, Dan put his hands on Herbert. His hands covered Herbert’s own against his fly.

“Herbert stop,” Dan said, voice low and imploring.

Herbert could feel his pulse pounding in his skull, he was certain that a headache was forming.

“I don’t know how to give you what you want,” Herbert admitted, choosing to watch Dan’s Adam’s apple shift above the collar of his shirt instead of meeting the man’s eyes.

“I’m not asking for your life story, I know you can’t give me that,” Dan assured. “I would like the cliff notes version though,” he added and allowed himself a small smile, “I only want what you’re willing to give me.” He pressed their foreheads together and his breath swept over the bottom half of Herbert’s face.

It should have been suffocating, the way Dan was pressing in all around him, but instead it was comforting. He was reminded of how Dan always ran warm. It was a kind of animalistic heat that Herbert had been drawn to from the first time he’d touched Dan. That warmth seeped in through every point of contact and settled in Herbert’s bones, it loosened his taught muscles and he had to catch himself before he fell completely against Dan.

“I did my undergrad in New York,” Herbert murmured, barely above a whisper.

“And not a bit of the city rubbed off on you,” Dan chuckled lightly as he rubbed circles into the back of Herbert’s hand with his thumb.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Herbert said, feeling a little more himself as he stood straighter and moved back from Dan. “It wasn’t all that long ago that the city was known for its criminal element,” he added, smirking at the way he’d clearly caught Dan off guard, “that and garbage piling up in the streets.”

Dan laughed fully then, chest quaking with the force of it, he had to let go of Herbert. The sound flooded him with relief. It had been quite some time since he had heard it, and it was nice to know that he had done something right for once.

His brief candour was rewarded with the swipe of lips against his own. A tantalizingly swift touch, it was just enough to leave the promise more, and just enough to make Herbert want more. He gripped Dan by the front of his shirt and pulled him back down.

* * *

They spoke over dinners, over the movies that Herbert had never really enjoyed anyways, on their way to and from work, during their lunch breaks and all those stolen small moments in between things. Slowly they revealed those inconsequential things about themselves, really it was all that there was left to learn about each other. Dan told him about the German Sheppard he’d had as a child. Of course it was called something as dull and common as Max, it was easy to imagine a younger Dan frolicking with the large dog, and it was hideously obvious that Dan had been devastated by the animal’s demise. He admitted that it had played a part in his decision to become a doctor. Herbert described growing up in Ontario in vague and distant terms, speaking more of the landscape and the biting grip of winter than any real details of his youth. At this Dan remarked that Canada had definitely not rubbed off on Herbert.

One night as they were sat in front of the TV set, fresh from their shifts, with the news playing despondently before them, Dan said that he had always wanted a brother just so he wouldn’t have to feel so alone.

“I have a brother, it didn’t seem to help that much,” Herbert said, though his personal loneliness likely had more to do with his own problems than anything to do with Crawford, but he was just trying to make Dan feel better.

“What?” Dan exclaimed, predictably.

“I have a brother,” Herbert said again.

“You have a brother,” Dan repeated dumbly. His round puppy-dog eyes blinked slowly in confusion, Herbert resisted the urge to pat him on the head.

“I have a twin brother if you must know, though the distinction doesn’t really matter,” Herbert added, revelling in the array of surprised expressions that crossed over Dan’s face.

“A twin,” Dan said, brows shooting up into his hairline. “I can’t imagine there being two of you,” he went on, smirking slightly as he turned toward Herbert, bringing his feet up onto the couch.

“He’s not like me Dan,” Herbert assured, clearly Dan’s interest had been piqued, and he leaned toward Herbert.

“Is this something I get to ask more questions about or is this another no go zone?” He asked and that easy charm came to the fore, reminding Herbert why he was the more popular doctor between them, not that Herbert was complaining.

“I suppose I can allow a few questions,” Herbert said, tilting his head back against the couch as he watched Dan. So far in their probing conversations, Dan had avoided questions about his parents, and hopefully he would continue to keep his distance from the subject.

“Well, what’s he like?” Dan asked, the news was over but the television was completely forgotten, mumbling to itself quietly in the background.

“For the most part Crawford was a positive influence,” Herbert began, “he was very bookish, adept at math and the sciences, he wanted to be a physicist the last time I spoke to him,” he added, staring past Dan’s head as he remembered the stacks of notebooks full of equations that were mostly gibberish to him.

“When was that?” Dan asked, pulling Herbert’s focus back toward him.

“Hmm?” Herbert hummed as he blinked away the memory of Crawford excitedly explaining the forms of light and how it affected perception as they sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor.

“The last time you spoke to him,” Dan clarified.

“Oh, it was our high school graduation,” Herbert said, conflicted by the memory. “I didn’t attend the ceremony, I was simply there to pick up my diploma and it just happened that it was occurring that day, he followed me into the administration office,” he explained, eyes sliding toward the window as he reached further into the memory. “It wasn’t exactly a heartfelt goodbye, he told me to look after myself, as though I wasn’t doing that already, I wished him well and we parted ways.”

Sometimes Herbert would wonder whether he regretted the moment. He wondered whether he would have preferred a hug to the stilted handshake, or if it would have meant anything to tell his brother that he loved him. It was done now, and it wouldn’t do to waste time thinking about things he couldn’t change.

“That sounds typical, for you at least,” Dan interjected when it became apparent Herbert wasn’t going to continue. “You haven’t spoken to him since?” Herbert shook his head.

“I was in a hurry to get away from anyone who so much as thought they knew me,” Herbert said, Dan threaded his fingers through Herbert’s. “I knew what college he was going to and for a while I intended to contact him, but it wasn’t a priority and other things became more important,” he explained, it was the same rationalisation he continued to tell himself. “He hasn’t tried to contact me either,” he added, as though that would absolve him, though he hadn’t exactly made it easy. Crawford only knew half of his new name after all.

“Why not try now?” Dan asked as he ran his thumb over Herbert’s knuckles.

“I wouldn’t want to involve him in this, no matter if it’s only by association,” Herbert said, he didn’t mention his fear of Crawford’s reaction. He had never cared much for the opinions of others, especially when it pertained to himself, but Crawford had always supported Herbert and his rejection was beyond imaging.

“Oh, but involving me is just fine?” Dan asked, smirking as he closed the distance between them, climbing into Herbert’s lap as he pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You all but volunteered Daniel,” Herbert said, smiling into the next kiss, it was nice to have someone around who could read the shift in his moods and pull him out of his dark stupor.

“I guess I did,” Dan murmured, pressing his own smirk against Herbert’s.

Herbert shifted, pushing Dan down and into the corner of the couch, and lost his fingers in Dan’s long hair as he climbed his body. Bones and muscle beneath his hands. He poured the memories down Dan’s throat, and they slid off his amateur tongue and tumbled into darkness. Dan swept his mind and feeling took over thought, at least for a time.

* * *

Herbert had spent his whole life staring back defiantly at the gazes of men. As a child it had given him a sharp thrill to do something that was deemed ‘un-lady-like’, he wore the reprimand like a badge of honour. The older he got the less patience people had for deviation from the norm. The older he got the more everyone tried, in every way they could, to force him into the shape they thought he should take. His brother’s quiet support was all the assurance he needed to continue his lonely metamorphosis.

Without his brother and his softly spoken advice, Herbert doubted that he would have learnt how to handle the bone crushing pressure to bend and break, to give in to the judgement of masculine eyes. He’d seen women duck their eyes away from those predatory gazes. For a while he had thought them cowards, silly little girls giving into the follies of men, bending to other people’s desires. Eventually he’d learned the distinction between cowardice and self preservation.

For a long time, Herbert had believed that Crawford was the only good man, he was already aware of his own moral failings. Then he’d met Doctor Gruber. The doctor may not have been strictly a good man, but he was understanding and intellectually brilliant. He had never asked anything of Herbert that he wasn’t willing to provide, never looked at him like other men had, and had taken Herbert at his word. Doctor Gruber had opened the door to a whole new dimension of thought and Herbert hadn’t turned back since.

Dan had been a good man. Though he was barely a man when they met, he’d been all bright eyes and promising future, Herbert had soon put a halt to all that. Of course he couldn’t (and most definitely wouldn’t) take all the blame. Dan could have left at any point. He could have thrown him out the house, reported him to the Dean, and ruin his college career all in one fell swoop. But he hadn’t. Dan could have, though it would have taken quite some explaining, turned him over to the authorities after the so-called massacre. But he didn’t. He could sell Herbert down the river and put him behind bars for the rest of his life at any time. But he hadn’t yet done that either. Dan didn’t do any of those things and that brought his character into question. Hell, just being around Herbert brought his character into question, let alone living with the man for several years. And the fact that he’d followed Herbert to South America was just more damning evidence atop a mountain of it. At every opportunity, at every opened door, Dan had chosen Herbert. Time and time again, Dan had chosen Herbert. That alone was proof enough that Dan, no matter the promise and light in his eyes, was not as good as those around him believed.

Herbert doubted that he would have been able to deal with someone truly good. He supposed it was part of the reason he’d never tried to contact his brother and their continued estrangement. The truly good kept their distance, and not without good reason. He wouldn’t allow his influence to corrupt even the memory of Crawford.

He didn’t have the same problem with corrupting Dan though.

Dan’s eyes were on him and as always Herbert met the gaze. A battle of wills waged over the patchwork corpse on the table between them, no Dan was not a good man, not by a long shot. Herbert broke the gaze first, only because the work lying idle between them was more important and enticing than the promise of physical thrill in those charred burning eyes; _that_ could wait.

He allowed the gaze because Dan wasn’t trying to mould him. He allowed it because Dan wanted him as he was.

Something was awakening inside him. Herbert had wanted Dan before, had desired the other man in an abstract kind of way from the moment they met, but this was a new beast altogether. He supposed that, since he’d been off of testosterone for some months, its return to his system may have caused the spectre of sexual appetite to finally raise its head.

Whatever it was, Herbert found himself suddenly burning with desire.

He rarely masturbated, and mostly did it for utilitarian purposes, never for personal pleasure. Herbert didn’t usually enjoy reckoning with the reality of his physical form, so touching himself was, for the most part, un-pleasurable.

Now though, Herbert couldn’t ignore the throbbing between his legs. All Dan had to do was look at him with intent and blood was instantly rushing downward. The man didn’t even have to touch him. He could have dealt with the over sensitivity of his erection rubbing against the fabric of his underwear, but the added dose of wetness seeping out of him was something else. Eventually he was pushed to the point where he even swiped some lubricant from the hospital.

In stolen moments between shift work and _the_ work or just before he drifted off into disdainful slumber, Herbert would slide his hand between his legs and ease the mounting tension inside him. Though the tension was only abated until his eyes next found Dan, it was better than nothing. That very night, once they were done in the basement, Herbert stumbled into his bedroom with the intention of touching himself for the pleasure of it.

Spread out on his disused mattress, Herbert sought some much needed relief. With his hand down the front of his pants he gripped his meagre erections between his thumb and forefinger, his hips canted into the touch, and he found himself sighing into the sensation. In his mind it was Dan’s hands upon him.

For the first time in his whole life he was fantasising about another person touching him sexually. The scant times he had masturbated before, it was a rushed affair, simply a means to an end and not something he chose to luxuriate in. It was a means to satiate his frustrations and alleviate physical tensions. There had been no fantasy.

A fantasy played out behind his eyelids that night, images projected in his mind, and Herbert had never felt such clean a high. He imagined Dan’s hands, again, moving along his body with intent. The imagined hands gripped around his thigh. Firm yet soft lips, whose touch he already knew, against his own.

His chest fluttered with a gasp. His fingers still moved over and around his engorged erection. He imagined everything they had already done together, then that sans clothes, and found it hard to push the fantasy further. He tried to focus on specific acts, his thoughts turned luridly vivid despite his inexperience. Just the thought of filling his mouth with Dan’s pulsing and thick cock was exciting and brought a sudden flow of wetness that slowly slid out of the hole he usually tried not to think about. Its presence was tolerable for the pleasure he was rending from it.

It was more than simply seeking pleasure. It was an exploration, in the way his fingertips traversed disused and derelict territory, a search for a way to make things work. He thought of it as a sort of experiment. Sensations were catalogued, reactions noted on a pleasure scale, and a mental manual was built until Herbert knew exactly what he did and didn’t like. And eventually he could get himself off in twenty minutes flat. Suffice to say, it was a successful experiment.

Herbert found it strangely freeing in a way he’d never quite thought possible. He admitted, to himself, that he had been somewhat closed minded on the matter. There was something about pulling pleasure from his body that was thrilling in its rebellion. It was a rebellion against those that had told him that they could fuck the femininity into him, against those that had told him he’d only find happiness in marriage and motherhood, and most especially it was a rebellion against the whole society that told him he’d mutilated himself and ruined the goodness and purity of his body. They were all wrong. Herbert had always revelled in proving others wrong.

* * *

Their make-out sessions began to take on a new form, it was a more desperate endeavour to hold onto each other and map the expanse of each other’s bodies. He hadn’t allowed this exploration before. Dan’s hands never found their way between his legs, they never seemed to even so much as twitch in that direction, and Herbert supposed that allowed him to feel at ease. He opened his mouth for Dan and gave the man his reward.

As with most things, Dan handed him the reigns and let him set the pace, allowed him to assert himself. It was thrilling to feel Dan beneath him. Muscles strained against Herbert’s hold, stubble grazed against his own, and a heady thick scent crawled up his nose as he buried his face into the juncture of Dan’s shoulder and his neck.

“Have you ever been with a man before?” Herbert asked, murmuring the words against Dan’s skin.

“Have you?” Dan returned, obviously stalling as his movements stuttered.

“I’ve never been with anyone, you know that,” Herbert said, he pulled back to watch Dan squirm, just the way his Adam’s apple bobbed was thrilling in itself.

“I fooled around with a guy in high school a few times but we didn’t go further than second base,” Dan said, his eyes skirted around Herbert’s face, avoiding his eyes.

“Second base?” Herbert asked, one brow arched artfully over the rim of his glasses.

“That’s everything over the clothes,” Dan explained bashfully.

“So, by that definition, we’re at second base, right?” Herbert asked, smirking as he ground his ass down against Dan’s crotch, he watched the flutter of Dan’s eyelids and his stomach rolled at the low groan that slipped from Dan’s throat.

“Yes Herbert, we’re at second base,” Dan said through gritted teeth, his grip turned rough on Herbert’s hips.

A swift rush, a rolling wave, of physical confidence took hold of him, that and the mounting sexual excitement between them, and possessed him and forced him forward, forced his mouth open and so the words tumbled out.

“How about we make it a homerun?” Herbert asked, pressing himself flush against Dan, breaths puffing over the man’s ear. He only regretted that he couldn’t see Dan’s reaction.

He heard the audible click as Dan swallowed and just watching the workings of his throat was plenty erotic on its own. Dan’s hands moved from their place on Herbert’s hips to his shoulders. He was pushed back until their eyes could meet. That electrifying flat desire, like looking into the gaping maw of death itself, was there in Dan’s blown irises but there was a canine concern beneath it too.

“Just to make sure that I heard you right,” Dan began, breath shallow, “you’re saying that you want to have sex?” He asked, brows curled as he watched Herbert’s face, yet again the man was proving his worth.

“Yes, I want to have sex, with you Danny,” Herbert clarified as his fingers slipped up and under Dan’s shirt, delighting as the man shivered beneath him. Dan groaned again. Clearly the lack of intercourse had gotten Dan to the point where the mere mention of it sent arousal rattling through him. Herbert supposed that it had been roughly a year and some change since Dan had slept with anyone. He admired the patience.

“Okay, okay,” Dan said, nodding as he gripped the back of Herbert’s thighs and rose with the other man in his arms.

For a moment, Herbert was thrown off balance and only just managed to cage the surprised squeal in his mouth. The Dan was kissing him again, lips latched together, and Herbert sunk into the sensation. Arms and legs wrapped around Dan as they moved through the house.

He was set down in the doorway of Dan’s bedroom. Muscular arms kept him close, lips still connected in a continued smattering of kisses. Dan only broke away to take his clothes off. He left items on the floor like so many breadcrumbs as he walked backward to toward the bed. Herbert watched, rapt, as Dan clambered atop the mattress. Once he was sat against the headboard he finally slid his boxers off, and Herbert was presented with the fullness of Dan’s cock as it sat lazily against his stomach.

The sight of all that lightly tanned skin turned his throat dry. Herbert didn’t buy penis envy, not the way Freud had described it anyway, but he would have given so much to be as blessed as Dan. At least this appendage was his in one way if not another. Dan wouldn’t much enjoy being thought of as a possession though.

“Herbert,” Dan said, it was the strain in his voice and the way his hand gripped his inner thigh, refraining from gripping something else, that brought Herbert’s eyes to his own. “I wanna see you too,” he added, half stuttered the way a child does when they’re uncertain if they’re allowed to ask for something.

It was almost a shock to remember that he was required to be naked too.

Herbert stripped himself, stood at the foot of Dan’s bed, needing complete autonomy over the moment. He moved mechanically and tried his best to leave the medical behind, though the only times he had previously been naked with someone else were in a medical context. It took him longer to strip than it had Dan. Off came the shoes, then socks, the suit jacket, then tie, then shirt, then under-shirt, then belt, then pants and finally underwear.

Dan’s awed immobility was comforting and arousing in equal turn. The expected mortification at being exposed was perfectly absent.

He stood, naked as paper, watching as Dan’s eyes crawled over him. Trailing all the places where Herbert had never been touched.

“You’re so,” Dan said, fingers absently twisting in the sheets, the next words he chose were far more important than Dan would ever know, “fucking handsome.”

Dan clambered to the edge of the bed, reached out toward Herbert with open hands, and pulled him gently onto the mattress. On his hands and knees, Herbert made his way over Dan’s body.

It was clear that Dan didn’t know where to start, where to put his hands or where not to, in a way it was charming and Herbert certainly appreciated the deliberation. If Dan had just surged forward and touched him without any thought for Herbert’s comfort, well Herbert wasn’t likely to react kindly.

“Dan,” Herbert murmured as he sat back on firm thighs, Dan’s eyes slowly moved up toward his face, Herbert didn’t quite know how to feel about the irreverence of Dan’s gaze. He took Dan’s hesitant hands and brought them to his chest.

Dan ran his fingers over the two scars that ran horizontal beneath Herbert’s nipples. He leaned forward and chased his touch with his lips, pressing feather light kisses along the scar tissue. His nose swiped over the sparse hairs clustered on Herbert’s chest as he made his way upward. Herbert shivered against him.

In a move of feigned confidence, Herbert straddled one muscular thigh, and the flush between his legs clenched with anticipation. It was almost enough to feel something warm and alive against him. His knee was dangerously close to Dan’s genitals, if it was uncomfortable then Dan would surely tell him, he supposed as he reached for the neglected erection between them. He held Dan, palm and fingers wrapped around the shaft. It was just as warm as the rest of the man and it pulsed in Herbert’s hold.

With stuttering hips he rode Dan’s thigh, felt his clit twitch in time with his racing pulse, as he continued to stroke Dan’s firm dick. He’d always been good at multitasking. Dan kissed him, moving from his face and neck, and down to his chest, teeth grazing occasionally against his skin. It was quickly apparent that his imaginings had fallen far short of the real thing.

“Tell me what you want,” Dan said, mouthing the words into Herbert’s collarbone.

“I want you to fuck me,” Herbert said, revelling in his own bluntness and the way the vulgarity made Dan’s erection twitch in his grasp.

“How?” Dan asked, swallowing thickly as he pulled back, “how would you like me to fuck you?” He lifted his leg slightly as he pulled Herbert’ hips down, making the smaller man release a shuddering gasp, hands fluttering against him.

Herbert had considered this. He would have preferred anal sex, but that would require patience and preparation. The heated forceful press of Dan against him and the mounting pressure of promised release meant that there was little patience between them. Things would go better if at least one of them knew what they were doing, Herbert figured, and he was as wet as he was going to get.

“Here,” Herbert muttered and guided Dan’s hand down between his legs. He bit his tongue against a reedy moan as he felt Dan’s feverish fingers upon him, curling around his engorged clit and probing hesitantly downward.

“Are you sure?” Dan asked, brows pinched as he looked back up at Herbert, fingers purposefully still as he waited for permission.

“Yes,” Herbert said and nodded just to affirm his statement. He canted his hips forward, sliding himself over Dan’s hand, as he gave Dan’s forgotten erection an errant pump with his closed fist.

Dan’s eyes rolled back as he released a low moan. His hips stuttered upward, moving into Herbert’s tight fingers. He pulled away, hands on Herbert’s shoulders, as he held the other at a short distance. Obviously he was about to ask yet another question. His continued and frequent requests for further consent were more than welcome, but Herbert wanted to cut the chase and avoid an awkward discussion of exactly how Herbert wanted to get fucked.

“I want to be on top,” Herbert said, rushing in before Dan could speak. He hoped that he had conveyed his impatience with the tilt of his body and the edge in his voice.

“Okay,” Dan said, nodding again as he reached over and into the nightstand. He pulled out a condom, wrapped in its foil like candy, and a tube of KY from the draw.

Herbert moved to straddle Dan’s hips. He watched as Dan tore the wrapper open with his teeth, his eyes stayed on Herbert even as he rolled the condom down the length of his erection, the experienced expertise were thrilling in the same way that watching Dan in class had been. He pushed his hand up Dan’s thigh, curled it possessively around the jut of his hip. Dan took his other hand and squeezed a glob of cold lubricant into his palm. With his fingers around Herbert’s wrist, Dan guided Herbert’s hand to his straining erection. At the moment of contact Dan released a soft gasp and dropped his head back against the mattress. Herbert moved his hand up and down Dan’s thick cock, spreading the lubricant as evenly as he could. On the up motion, Herbert twisted his wrist and Dan hissed through gritted teeth, he filed that information away for later use.

Dan gripped his hips as Herbert positioned himself over Dan’s cock still held in his grasp. He took a deep steadying breath and was about to lower himself when Dan spoke.

“Herbert, you look like you’re constipated,” Dan said, his thumbs swiped over Herbert’s hip bones in soothing motions. “Relax,” he urged, sitting up for a moment just to press his mouth to Herbert’s before laying back down.

Herbert let the breath out, gripped Dan’s cock by the base and guided himself downward.

The intrusion wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, the lubricant ensured that the motion went smoothly, it was simply unlike anything else he’d ever felt. He could feel himself pulsing around Dan. There was nothing like the feeling of Dan twitching inside him, he gasped at the motion.

Dan gently urged him forward by the hips. The actual mechanics of intercourse were far different when experienced than when read from the pages of a medical textbook. In hindsight, Herbert wished that he had at least tried to watch some sort of pornography, if only to better prepare him. The bodies would be all wrong though, or they would make Herbert feel wrong and that would be much worse.

He braced his hands on Dan’s firm chest and let him guide his movements. The drag of Dan’s cock sliding against his insides felt good, but his own erection rubbing against Dan’s groin felt better. And if Dan’s shallow breathing and the growing urgency of his touch were anything to go by, then Dan was certainly enjoying himself too. Those deep brown eyes were skittering all over Herbert’s body, like he was trying to take it all in, as though no part of Herbert could be missed. When their eyes finally met, Herbert groaned and ground his hips down harder. It was the only response he had for the barefaced adoration laid out before him. His glasses were sliding down his nose, but he wouldn’t dare take them off, it would mean missing the delicious expressions that fell across Dan’s face.

Dan rose and Herbert threw his arms over Dan’s shoulders, pulling him in. Legs folded beneath him, one large hand rested against the small of his back, while the other tipped his chin. The kiss was rough and wet. Breathing into each other’s mouths as they rocked together, tasting carbon dioxide, it made Herbert dizzy.

“So good,” Dan ground out, words pressed harshly into Herbert’s neck.

“Danny,” Herbert whined and hated the pitch of his voice. He tried to ignore it and focused instead on the teeth grazing over his skin and the fingers making their way southward between them.

The touch was electric, it sent shivers through Herbert’s body and made his movements stutter, he couldn’t stop the moan from slipping out of his mouth. He canted his hips into the touch. Felt drugged with twitchy heat mounting inside as Dan continued to rub the pads of his fingers against him. His own fingers were caught in Dan’s hair, face buried into the crook of Dan’s neck and the frame of his glasses dug into Dan’s pulse point, though he didn’t seem to mind.

Every motion was aiming toward chasing orgasm. His frustration peaked as he hit a plateau. He trailed his lips up the side of Dan’s face, whining pathetically into Dan’s open mouth. The hot puffs of breath made him feel feverish. Herbert felt the sweat beginning to press out of his skin and revelled in the dampness of Dan’s brow against his own.

A rough swipe of thumb against him was enough to push Herbert over the edge and made his body quake, pulsing hard around Dan’s prophylactic covered member as he was flooded with his own lubricant. It was all he could do to cling onto Dan and gasp into the man’s overheated skin. His heart beat a jack-hammer rhythm into his ribs, as though making to break free, the last time he’d felt something like it he had been high or convinced he was about to die. Herbert felt high, he felt like he was going to die. His thighs twitched against Dan as he continued to move within Herbert.

The high subsided into an over-stimulated euphoria. Herbert supposed it was the legendary afterglow, it felt warm like sweet waxy honey moving through his veins, it made him uncharacteristically affectionate. Hands moving over Dan’s heated skin in cloying impassioned rhythms.

“Come for me Danny,” Herbert urged, as he continued to ride him. Dan seemed beyond words and only managed to nod.

Their sweat slick skin smacked together, the sound was cacophonous in the small room. Dan’s hands returned to Herbert’s hips, his grip was rough as he made to comply with Herbert’s demand, ever eager to please. Dan’s mouth moved upon him, kissing low groans onto Herbert’s open throat. And in the next few thrusts Dan was coming. Body drawn taught as he clutched Herbert to him, nose against the hollow of Herbert’s throat as he moaned.

It felt strange. Herbert wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but he hadn’t expected to feel the fluid flood the condom as Dan’s cock pulsed with the force of it inside him, it wasn’t wholly unpleasant.

After a moment or two they unstuck themselves, sweat like glue on their overheated skin, they slumped down upon the mattress. Herbert watched as Dan peeled the condom off, his fingers pinched the open end to keep the fluid in. Dan grimaced as he tied it off and threw it in the trash. Seeing the realities behind romance was like looking into the working of a fantastical diorama, it might turn some off to see how the magic actually worked, but Herbert had never shied away from such things. It would have made him an awful scientist if he did.

Herbert reached down to the end of the bed and pulled on his boxers. Since all the fun was over, he would rather forget or at least ignore the existence of the pulsing wet hole between his legs. When he settled back down, Dan was watching him with questioning eyes. Herbert was wary as he shuffled under the sheets.

“W-was that okay?” Dan asked, finally, as he sat up against the headboard. “It’s fine if it wasn’t, we’ll figure it out, together, it might take some time, but we’ll figure it out,” he rambled, fingers nervously toying with the sheets, eyes on his hands.

“Dan,” Herbert called, pulling Dan’s gaze upward with his flat affect. “I enjoyed myself,” he said, and gripped Dan by the shoulder, pulling him into a kiss. He felt Dan smile against him.

“Good, since that’s kind of the point,” Dan said.

Dan clambered off of the bed and switched the light off. Herbert got a full view of his naked form in motion, it really was quite the sight, and he could imagine the masters of old taking Dan as a muse. Even in the dark, with his body covered in the gentle silk of shadow, he cast a striking silhouette. Herbert watched as Dan climbed back into bed. Fingers reached out of the darkness plucked the glasses from his face, and he listened to the clack of them being set atop the nightstand. Dan sunk into him and it wasn’t long before they fell away into slumber.

* * *

Dan looked so young when he was asleep. Neither of them were exactly old, but they weren’t getting any younger, and Dan often worried about what the immorality, the unnaturalness, of their work was doing to their bodies, to their souls. Herbert had no such worries. And by the look of Dan, those worries were unfounded. If there was a God, then he certainly wasn’t here.

He almost looked just like the boy Herbert had met in that morgue, as though a day hadn’t passed since. Bright eyed and bushy tailed. Those eyes a Labrador brown, chocolate dog fur, oh so eager to please. It was a pleasant sight. Herbert wondered, in hindsight, if his unrealised attraction that had played a part in drawing him to Dan’s doorstep later that night.

Herbert watched Dan breathe, chest moving shallowly. He was sat up against the headboard reading when he had realised that Dan had fallen asleep. They often slept in the same bed these days, and that bed was usually Dan’s. The book was forgotten in favour of the man before him. Dan needed a haircut, Herbert thought as a swath of hair slid down Dan’s brow and fell over his eyes, Herbert reached out and brushed it aside. He was suddenly taken with the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

There was something about sleeping in the same bed as someone else. The warmth of another body was welcome, Dan ran as hot as a furnace and simply lying in his embrace released some of the tension in Herbert’s strained muscles. It was a comfort that Herbert couldn’t find it within him to resent. Though he might have if he had been a few years younger, but Dan had worn some of his edges down, despite what the man himself might have thought. Dan had a great and profound effect upon Herbert.

If he had been a better man, a good man, then Herbert supposed he would have left Dan alone a long time ago. He might never have stood on that doorstep at all. Then again, if he were a truly good man he likely would not have ended up in Arkham at all. Herbert had never deluded himself into thinking that he was good, no.

Herbert had never been one to deny himself an impulse and he wasn’t about to start now. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Dan’s cheek in a chilled kiss. Dan stirred beneath him, eyes slow to open and they crawled up Herbert’s frame. An arm unfolded from under the sheets and wrapped around Herbert’s waist. He allowed himself to be pulled under.

* * *

Herbert had been dreading this from the moment Dan had kissed him, though he was quite surprised that it had taken them so long to get there. Other things had been in the way, the work and Dan’s constant moralising, not to mention the conundrum of Herbert’s body. With all that and full time jobs, there wasn’t much time to consider the truly romantic.

“Do you love me?” Dan asked, fingers curled around the back of Herbert’s thigh, the elbow of his other arm braced beside Herbert’s head.

It was such a loaded question. Behind it was the backward confession of Dan’s own love for him, something Herbert had been hiding from, and trying his best not to see. He supposed Dan had noticed. There was no other explanation as to why he would ask such a thing while buried deep inside Herbert. Dan proved his ingenuity and intellect at the worst of times.

Things had been going so well. They had found a decent rhythm, everyone got what they wanted, or so it had seemed, it was such a shame to spoil it with heavy declarations. Dan had been so docile and affectionate of late. It reminded Herbert of the early days, the way Dan used to watch him, easily jumping to his defence. It was easy to kiss Dan into silence when he began to lose his nerve and guide him through the work.

And the sex. The thrill of exploration, learning what made the other tick was still a cloying drug. It was the kind of living that thumbed the eye of death and everything else that would defy or deny him. Though, some days Herbert couldn’t stand to be naked. Sometimes just the thought of being looked at sent his stomach churning in ways it never did before open cadavers. During those days, Dan would submit more, give more space. He would offer himself up to Herbert, hand him all control, and that was usually enough to have him feeling more like himself.

Everything had been going so smoothly, ticking away like a well oiled machine, Herbert should have known that it couldn’t last. He did know but he was apt to lose himself in the work and now in Dan’s body. Holding onto a thought outside of his usual sphere was almost beyond him, still an addict through and through, it was likely that obsessive tunnel vision (among other things) that would bring about his downfall in the end.

Though he knew it wasn’t fair, Herbert resented being asked. Dan had all of him, all that he had to give, and still he needed more. And though Herbert had expected it, had been waiting for it, he hadn’t expected to feel so exposed by the question.

Herbert’s mind slid down to the heart in the fridge in the basement, to the mounting mistakes hidden in the hole in the wall, it was all a reminder of the precarity that his choices had led to. He had always been a risk taker. It was something that Dan had often admonished him for, among other things, his reckless abandon.

He pressed his face into the pillow, eyes shut tight, and nodded finally.

Dan pressed into him a little harder, hips grinding against the backs of his thighs, as the hand beside his head trailed finger tips through his hair.

“I love you,” Dan murmured, lips grazing against Herbert’s frantic pulse as he spoke.

* * *

Things had swiftly slipped out of his control. Absences grew around his inability to verbalise his feelings. Trust Dan to ruin it all with his traditional understanding of romance and relationships, and his inflexibility on the subject. Dan littered the words all around them, as though he was trying to agitate Herbert into action. He spoke them like grand declarations, fiercely as he stared unflinchingly into Herbert’s eyes, pressed them soft like petals to his skin, dropped them carelessly like he was only commenting on the weather, and used them in the place of goodbyes, a gentle farewell that left Herbert to ache in inadequacy.

Herbert hadn’t reacted well to the onslaught, he wondered what Dan had expected exactly, and surely he knew better. Perhaps Dan was trying to wear him down. Maybe he was slowly sanding off the edges, eroding him, until he admitted his devotion with his own words. And surely Dan knew better than that too.

In hindsight, he should have known better as well. He had been scared at the time and fear was not a good motivator, he made mistakes and rash decisions when he was scared. It was the fear of losing Dan that had pushed him to bring the heart out of the fridge. He proffered it as though it were his own in his outstretched hands, begging and pleading with more than just his words. Dan had deflated at the sight. It was usually a good sign, one that said Dan would fold with the slightest touch, but what followed told of a catastrophic misstep that was likely to shatter Herbert’s kneecaps.

Never in his life had Herbert been so relieved to be interrupted. If only it had been anything other than a nosey washed up detective, who had more free time than brains. Clearly he hoped to be a thorn in Herbert’s side, as though he needed more to deal with. Herbert’s mind was already in several places at once. At least Dan had played his part, if only until the door was closed.

“Do you really think I want to bring Meg back?” Dan asked, turning on Herbert.

“It’s an effort at atonement,” Herbert said, he struggled against swallowing, “for past transgressions.” It was supposed to be a token of the love he was failing to show. “A new life, raised from the rubble.”

Dan stood there blinking at him for a long moment, as though he couldn’t fathom the depravity of Herbert’s mind. Herbert would have been restraining himself from rolling his eyes if he wasn’t so paralyzed with desperation. Dan was standing so close to the door.

“And you think that creating life using Meg’s heart would somehow make up for her death?” Dan asked, face creased in frustrated confusion.

“I thought, since you’re so concerned with the state of our _souls_ and the morality of our work, then the best way to counteract that is to create life, piece by piece,” Herbert explained, though he should have known that trying to rationalise with a fundamentally emotional man was a losing battle, especially in matters of the heart and soul. “I know it will work this time,” he added, firmly, hoping that his conviction would sway Dan.

“Like the horror show now smeared across the couch?” Dan asked, brows raised and teeth bared, his hand thrust out toward the couch.

There were words on the tip of his tongue, but he simply couldn’t say them. He couldn’t meet Dan’s eyes. Instead he stared at the couch and watched as a strange sickly brown fluid seeped out from under the vast textbook. It was likely the mixture of blood and reagent. The cushions were probably ruined. It had been a mistake to show Dan his new work on parts in that manner, the phrase ‘ _morbid doodles’_ was still echoing in his mind, but what other way was there to prove that he could make it work?

“I thought that you didn’t want to create life anyway,” Dan said, filling the silence that Herbert wouldn’t.

“Huh?” Herbert asked. He looked up at Dan, with some effort. The way Dan was looking at him, watching him, it was an echo of so many looks that had brought disdain out in Herbert.

“You know, considering,” Dan said vaguely as he gestured to his groin.

“And what would that have to do with this?” Herbert asked with a sneer.

“When you bring life into the world, you’re responsible for it, unless you really do want to become fucking Victor Frankenstein. It’s like becoming a parent,” Dan replied, so easily casting Herbert in the part of mother that it was a wonder he didn’t lash out physically. If Dan had been anyone else then Herbert just might have. As it was, Herbert simply stood there, fists shaking at his sides.

“I’ve also read Mary Shelly Daniel,” Herbert returned, his jaw muscles strained as he ground his teeth. “I do not intend to _father_ a child,” he continued, teeth biting into the words, “I’m interested in science, not conception.”

“That’s the problem Herbert,” Dan said, hands flying out to grip Herbert’s shoulders, it had been some time since Dan had held him with such aggressive intent. “That’s not taking responsibility, that’s continuing down the same reckless road we’ve been on for years,” he went on, shaking Herbert, voice coming apart as he spoke, “It’s maddening, it’s fucking madness Herbert, and I can’t even begin to imagine the horrific mess that’s at the end of this.”

“It’s just like you to come up to the finish line and step off,” Herbert growled, tearing himself out Dan’s hold, jaw jutting out as he took a full step backward, “such cowardice before the brilliant breakthrough of our work. Dan, how can you still not see what we’re doing here?”

For a moment, just a single moment, Dan looked as though he might genuinely hurt Herbert. That didn’t last though. And his face crumpled into pained frustration, he almost looked like he might cry, Dan hadn’t cried since they’d put Meg (or least parts of her) in the ground. Herbert felt as though he’d stepped on a landmine, he could almost hear the foreboding ticking underfoot.

“I guess I was a fool to think that you’d ever understand,” Dan said with a resigned sigh.

Herbert hadn’t a clue as to what Dan was referring to. It was beyond him, which made Dan right, in a way at least and Herbert resented the implication. The notion that Herbert just simply wasn’t human enough to understand something that everyone else would. That was enough to push him forward, and only too late did he realise he had lifted his foot from the mine.

“And I was a fool to think you would understand the gravity and importance of what we’re doing here,” Herbert said, pointer finger jammed into Dan’s chest.

There was no retaliation. The circular and tired argument didn’t come, and when Dan spoke he just sounded tired.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Herbert,” Dan said. He brushed past Herbert and left through the front door. The expected slam didn’t come, as Dan closed the door carefully behind him.

Herbert supposed that those closest to an explosion never got to hear it. He stood in the empty house with its second hand furniture and stared at the closed door. The house had never been a home, but it had been becoming somewhere that he lived, but now it was just a building in which he was standing, alone.

For the first time in his entire life, Herbert couldn’t focus on the work. When doctor Gruber had died, Herbert’s mind had been aflame with all the things he could do, all the possibilities, it was an easy distraction from the grief he was hiding from. There was no hiding from Dan’s absence. Maybe a year ago he could have continued on without a thought for the man, but a lot had happened between then and now.

He didn’t even bother to go back down into the basement. Just the thought of catching himself reaching for Dan, about to call out for the man or making a note to bring something up with him later, was more than he could bear.

It took him a while, but eventually Herbert was able to move toward the couch. He lifted the great tome of a textbook from the cushions and examined the smear of gore upon its cover. Luckily it was sleeved and he was able to slip it off and throw it in the trash. There wasn’t much he could do for the cushions though.

Herbert took the book into his room. Sat up against the headboard, all hopes of sleep forgotten, braced the book against his thighs and tried to read. His eyes scanned over the text but he took in none of it.

He couldn’t quite explain how this particular situation was any different from all the other arguments he’d had with Dan. Perhaps it was the added tension of a police investigation, no matter how unofficial, or the continued tension of Herbert’s undeclared feelings and Dan’s much declared ones. Either way the consequences were still the same, Herbert got little sleep that night.

* * *

Francesca’s return was threatening. He wasn’t worried that Dan might cheat on him per se, he was more worried about her persuasive powers, especially considering Dan’s demeanour of late. She was soft and pretty, the true shape of a woman. She appeared to be everything that Herbert tried his best not to be. If Dan found Herbert lacking, then surely the man’s eyes would wander toward someone who wasn’t.

He was floundering. Off balance and wading through waters he’d never before traversed. In this aspect, Dan held all the knowledge and all the power, leaving Herbert to feel like a lost child. He was left in the dark. Herbert wondered exactly how Dan expected him to find the right solution with no guidance at all.

Dan had been avoiding him. He hadn’t touched him or tried to touch him all week, Herbert felt cold, as though the absence had sucked the warmth from him. The basement was lonely and the work was all but futile without Dan’s aid. On his own, Herbert could sneak bits and pieces out of the hospital, but he needed Dan’s help to obtain the required parts to finish his masterpiece. He sat down there toiling away at nothing.

The saying went that nothing good came from boredom, ‘the devil makes work for idle hands’, and Herbert was indeed idle. And he was lonely, and mortifyingly a little heartbroken.

Herbert had never put much stock in proverbs or the like, but there was another that seemed to follow him around, one that Dan had once sneered at him (though Herbert was still certain that it had been invoked improperly). It was probably good practice for a scientist to observe Murphy’s Law, that ‘everything that can go wrong will go wrong’. Though Herbert wasn’t known for adhering to best practices. Best practices were for the cautious and the cowardly, at least in Herbert’s opinion. If things went wrong then it was probably more due to his reckless thoughtlessness and his insurmountable ego than any cosmic chaos. It would be that and his inability to deal with his mistakes which would send him tumbling downhill.

At the week’s close his precarious house of cards came apart, falling down upon him. The detective, a small army of the reanimated, his own terrible amalgams and the accursed head of Dr. Hill (now with added bat wings because of course) fell upon the house that dark and stormy night.

It all came to a head in the basement. The corpse of the detective at his feet, the unfinished being he would never breathe life into on the table before him, while Francesca begged Dan to leave as they stood at the top of the stairs. Her painted nails bit into his sleeve. The banging against the basement door spelt their doom.

Theoretically, they could have escaped through the small tunnel he had dug between the basement wall and the mausoleum, but it was filled with Herbert’s failed experiments. He knew they were still alive, he heard them wailing and groaning from time to time.

Even then, with the deck stacked against him, Herbert would not admit defeat.

He convinced himself that he could make his way through and out of the mausoleum, and as far as he was aware, the amalgams had no violent tendencies. Even if they did he didn’t have much of a choice. Dan and Francesca moved further into the basement as the door began to jump in its hinges. Herbert struggled to push the locker out of the way, eventually Dan came to his side to help and they were able to reveal the hole.

In that moment two things happened simultaneously. First the basement door flew open and the reanimated corpses flooded in, followed by the contemptuous flying head of Dr. Hill. At the same time, since Herbert was distracted, the failed amalgams caught him in their grasp and pulled him backward into the hole. Chaos ensued. Herbert was lost in the dirt and flesh, he was only vaguely aware of the basement and mausoleum collapsing around him before the darkness enveloped him.

* * *

Déjà vu, Herbert was sure that he had been here before. Flat on his back with Dan looming over him, chest aching from life saving abuse, the rain was a new addition. He didn’t hear what Dan said as he was roughly pulled against his body. His nose and throat burned, he wiped his mouth and his hand came away covered in dirt, the rain quickly cleared it away. Herbert didn’t move and let Dan’s incredible warmth seep into his skin. It was the first time he’d been able to touch Dan in over a week.

Rain poured down around them as the house continued to groan in its descent. There was no salvaging his work, no reclaiming it from the sinking maw of his mistakes; he would have to start over from scratch. The thought was exhausting. Instead of doing anything, he simply watched as the house half sunk into the ground. He couldn’t even find it within himself to mourn the loss.

Finally they stood. Weak legs and weaker lungs, body bruised and abused, Herbert hoped he hadn’t broken a rib but the sensation was foreboding.

“Francesca?” Herbert asked in a coarse voice. He wouldn’t lie and pretend that he asked with any true care, if she were still alive she would prove something of an issue, but he was sure that Dan would welcome the question. Dan simply shook his head. Herbert wasn’t relieved, death was his enemy after all and he didn’t enjoy the pain on Dan’s face.

“What now?” Dan asked, as though Herbert always knew what they were going to do, as though he always had a plan. Herbert was flattered that the man seemed to think so highly of him.

“I don’t know,” Herbert admitted, choosing honesty as he so rarely did.

They stared at each other, both soaked to the bone and in various states of bodily destruction. Herbert’s head was throbbing along with his pulse.

“Dan, I – “, Herbert began, but before he could get the damned words out, a fit of coughs overtook him. He bent over double, hands braced on his knees. Dirt shot out of his mouth and onto the grass to be washed away in the downpour.

Dan’s closed fist came down between Herbert’s shoulder blades and that seemed to break loose the rest of what had been choking him. When Herbert stood again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes were wet behind his glasses. Dan’s hand stayed around his shoulder.

“Dan,” Herbert tried again in a broken rasp.

“Herbert, it’s fine, you don’t have to say it,” Dan said, face soft as he rubbed circles into Herbert’s shoulder, that long abused compassioned returned. Herbert would usually have welcomed it but he was trying to do something here.

“But it’s important to you,” Herbert pushed, he had one hand gripped around Dan’s elbow as he fiercely met the other man’s gaze.

“It can wait,” Dan said, eyes now scanning around them, taking in the catastrophic fallout.

“I love you,” Herbert said with force, fingers clutched harshly in Dan’s flesh.

“We should leave, like right now,” Dan said, skittish. There was no way he hadn’t heard Herbert, his eyes returned to him.

“I said I love you,” Herbert reaffirmed, heart pounding double-time in his aching chest.

“I know,” Dan said, biting his lip, “I love you too,” he added, hiding his shy smile, as though Herbert hadn’t earned it. And Herbert supposed that he hadn’t. “It wasn’t the work I was worried about Herbert,” picking up from where they’d left off a week ago, “we’ve come this far, and I know what I’m in for. What I am worried about is you, you always get hurt,” he said, fingers gentle against Herbert’s pounding temple.

“Oh,” Herbert breathed. It was almost horrifying how utterly wrong he’d been. He knew what he would do if Dan was hurt, he knew what it was like to see him get hurt, how sick with fear it had made him.

Herbert knew, realistically, that he could live without Dan, that eventually he would find a way to function. But stood there with the only person he had ever loved, he couldn’t fathom living without him, he wouldn’t. He refused to even consider it.

“We need to leave, now,” Dan said, he wrapped a hand around Herbert’s upper arm and dragged him toward the car.

He climbed cautiously into the passenger seat as Dan got the car started. The house fell in on itself as they pulled out of the driveway, it reminded Herbert of the midnight movies that played on the TV when they had been practicing making out. Upbeat music played from the radio as the wipers struggled to keep the windshield clear. He could almost see the credit scroll.

They didn’t have a plan, but that didn’t matter. It was enough that they were together. It was more than enough, and certainly more than Herbert deserved, to be with a man who knew all there was to know about him and saw him as an equal, saw him as he truly was. Who not only accepted him as he was, but actively wanted him that way.

“Where do you want to go?” Dan asked once they were far out of town.

“I don’t know,” Herbert shrugged and rubbed at his aching throat, “I don’t particularly care,” he added, his mouth was getting glued up as he approached his true feelings, but he pushed through and forced the words out of himself. “As long as we’re together the location hardly seems to matter.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Dan said, smile bitten back, but still he reached over the console and laced their fingers together.

They said that home is where the heart is, if that were true then Herbert supposed that home was wherever Daniel Cain happened to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can catch me twitter @ th_weakestthing  
> ~x~


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